Knit Me Together
by QueenOfTheDreamers87
Summary: "Darkness is not dark for you, and light shines as the day." Some are dead, and some are gone, and some are left behind, scrambling for sense in the darkness. Severus' and Hermione's stories resume amid the bleak altered realities created in "In The Shadow Of Your Wings." This is Book Two of the Psalmody series.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Dear readers - If you are continuing in the** _ **Psalmody**_ **series from** _ **In The Shadow Of Your Wings,**_ **let me bid you welcome and thank you so very much for joining me as I continue down the journey that these iterations of the characters are taking.**

 **I decided to create a series in order to ensure that a single novel did not become bloated and wandering. This is a re-upload, and I intend to finish _Knit Me Together_ as my next "big project." As soon as I'm done with re-uploading existing chapters, I will begin writing new chapters for _Knit Me Together_ and resuming my work in the _Psalmody_ series. As always, feedback is absolutely cherished.  
**

* * *

If I take the wings of dawn

and dwell beyond the sea,

Even there your hand guides me,

your right hand holds me fast.

If I say, "Surely darkness shall hide me,

and night shall be my light" —

Darkness is not dark for you,

and night shines as the day.

Darkness and light are but one.

You formed my inmost being;

You _knit me together_ in my mother's womb.

Psalm 139:9-13

* * *

 **Prelude**

* * *

The last days of autumn made a hasty exit and Winter slipped upon Hogwarts like a wicked, frigid wraith. Hermione felt the chill of December's first morning in her very being as she descended the stone stairs to the Potions classroom.

The previous month, Professor Slughorn had returned to his post as Potions Master, and Hermione was actually grateful to no longer be subject to Severus' daily presence as her classroom teacher. It was one complication taken off her shoulders, at the very least.

As she walked into the Potions dungeon, the scent of fresh aconite blossoms reached Hermione's nostrils. Frowning, she wondered if they were to indeed brew Grand Wiggenweld Potion today, as Professor Slughorn had implied previously.

She set her cauldron and scales down upon a desk and began organizing her other supplies. Neville Longbottom wordlessly slipped into the seat beside her, his own materials clattering rather ungracefully as he prepared to attempt Potions work far beyond his mastery.

Over the past few weeks, Hermione had settled back into a quiet and comfortable friendship with Neville, particularly during lessons. Perhaps it was because they were all one another _truly_ seemed to have left anymore, at least within House and Year. Seamus Finnigan seemed more interested in fraternizing with his latest female accomplice than with Neville. While Hermione had Luna (or at least the part of Luna's mind that paid attention), they did not have lessons together. So, every Potions or [Defense Against the] Dark Arts or Muggle Studies lesson, Hermione always sat beside Neville. They rarely conversed, and if they did, it was just small talk. But he was a reliable ally, she knew, and that fact required no conversation whatsoever.

Today, Neville cleared his throat and softly asked, "What are you doing for the holidays, Hermione?"

Her eyebrows crumpled in confusion and she turned to Neville, trying not to scoff as she asked, "Where would I go for the holidays, Neville?"

"Home." He said the word simply, as though it were obvious. He shrugged and shook his head. "I know you're married now, but surely you'll want to visit with your parents over Christmas? Having not seen them since summer?"

Hermione felt her eyes sear then, suddenly and without warning. She felt her mouth fall open, felt her breath catch almost painfully in her throat. She finally managed to swallow the lump there and lowered her eyes to her cauldron.

"I - they - they've gone on holiday to Australia," she lied, stammering over her own untruth as her own mind raced to the horrible final time she'd seen her mother's face. She could still see the very instant that all recognition, all maternal love, left her mother's eyes. It still sent a shockwave of physical pain through her.

Neville was silent in the fact of Hermione's blatant and clumsy lie. He, better than anyone in the world, understood what it meant to be an orphan with living parents. After all, his parents had both been alive his whole life, but he'd never once heard them say his name. Hermione felt shame flush through her veins at the way she was letting emotion boil up in her, since Neville had always handled his parents' debilitating torture with such grace. She did not wish to lie about her parents. Not to Neville, of all people.

"They don't know me anymore," she whispered at last, still staring down at the desk. "It's for their own safety. They're gone."

There was another long silence as Neville contemplated this. Then he reached wordlessly into his school bag and pulled out a small burlap pouch. He opened the pouch and very carefully extracted a few pieces of wrinkled blue wax paper, which he placed delicately upon the table in front of him. He looked down at them for a minute and then turned his face to Hermione.

"These are from my mum," he told her. "She gives me a Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper every time I visit her. Gran always tells me to toss them into the bin; that they're useless. But, you see, they're all I have of her. The only thing she's ever given me… and they mean more to me than a million Galleons."

Neville put all the wrappers back into his pouch, touching the wax paper as if it were breakable glass. He kept one lone wrapper out on the table. He pulled the tie of the bag shut and tucked it back into his rucksack.

"Sometimes it is easier to pretend they're gone. but I think that would not be the right thing to do. I really hope one day you get to see your mum and dad again, Hermione."

Neville pushed the solitary Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper on the desk toward Hermione, nodding to signify that it was a gift.

"Thank you, Neville." Hermione picked up the blue wrapper and stared down at it, not bothering now to fight away tears. "Thank you."

* * *

 _Crack!_

Severus had arrived outside Malfoy Manor unannounced; this was a rare meeting that had been planned far enough in advance that no one's Dark Marks had needed triggering. Severus was thankful for that. His left arm had burned more in the past year than in his entire previous life.

But he was early, having left Hogwarts immediately after dinner in the Great Hall was finished. He'd headed straight out to the Apparition Point and had arrived fifteen minutes prior to the call time. He was usually one of the last ones to file into a meeting or Summoning, so his prompt arrival was a rare occasion indeed.

The house was seemingly empty when Severus walked through the front door, which was slightly ajar. It was also very cold. Couldn't anyone around here at least be bothered to cast Warming Charms or light fires in the myriad ornate fireplaces? Severus shivered a bit, quite against his will, as he climbed the stone stairs to the normal meeting space. But he paused near the top when he heard the sibilant voice of the Dark Lord mingling with the murmur of Bellatrix Lestrange.

He strained to listen, casting a silent _Amplio Audito_. The sounds of the voices grew louder to Severus' ears, as though someone had cranked up the volume on a Muggle television.

"And the cup I gave you? It is -"

"Safe and sound, My Lord." Bellatrix's voice was a gentle hum, oddly soothing in tone, almost condescending. "It is in my vault at Gringott's. Impenetrable."

"Hmph." Voldemort scoffed a bit at Bellatrix's overconfidence. Then Severus heard him say, "bring in Aberforth. I want him here for the meeting."

"My Lord, he is hardly alive -"

"Do you question me, Bella?" The Dark Lord's voice was cold and hard as frozen iron then, and there was a beat of weighty silence.

"No, My Lord. Never," Bellatrix breathed. "I shall go and fetch him."

Severus briskly released himself from the amplification charm and held back, pretending he was just climbing the stairs when he saw Bellatrix's shadow rounding the corner.

"Oh," she acknowledged him coldly, sticking her chin upward in a haughty little gesture. "Hello, Snape. Good thing you're here early. He'd wanted to speak with you, I think."

An ugly sneer caused her lip to curl up, revealing her teeth, which had rotted after years in Azkaban. Severus nodded indifferently at Bellatrix and continued up the stairs past her. He reached the top landing and squared his jaw, throwing up every mental block he had in case his mind was invaded tonight.

 _Dark, expansive skies. Bottomless lakes with glassy surfaces. Clouds and shadows and doors that lead nowhere._

When he felt his mind was sufficiently barricaded, Severus cleared his throat delicately and stepped into the dining room. Voldemort, as usual, was seated in the place of honor at the head of the table.

"Severus," he said in a low hiss, flashing Severus an eerie smile. He gestured toward one of the chairs with a majestic sweep of his bony grey arm and said, "Please, sit and talk with me."

"My Lord." As Severus pulled out the chair and sat, his consciousness wandered to what he had overheard. A cup, given from Voldemort to Bellatrix… seemingly for safekeeping, since she was keeping it at Gringotts. Why a cup? Why Bellatrix?

Well, Bellatrix because she was more loyal than anyone currently in Voldemort's retinue. She'd never once denied Voldemort, not even when it seemed an undeniable truth that the Dark Lord had fallen. Bellatrix had been his most devoted servant from the start. And Voldemort himself had told Severus that she loved him in a way none of the rest of them did.

Why a cup? An object that sounded so simple, and yet seemed to need protection that Bellatrix called "impregnable"?

It was a Horcrux, Severus thought with a fizzle of alarm. That was why. Whatever exactly this cup was, it was being kept in Bellatrix's Gringotts vault for safekeeping because it was a precious Horcrux.

And, undoubtedly, the Dark Lord was panicking a bit of late. He'd _nearly_ caught Harry Potter, nearly lured the Boy Who Lived into a trap, but had been defeated by House Elf magic. In the weeks since, no one had been able to track Potter and Ginny Weasley down - not the infamous Snatchers, and not the general populace who had been informed that handing Harry Potter over would make them very rich.

"Severus, I've not yet received any happy news of an impending birth," Voldemort said without any further pretense, his terrible voice a smooth grating sound in the otherwise silent room. Severus felt his dark eyes go wide and he feigned ignorance as he said,

"Erm - no, My Lord. Indeed not. My wife has not yet conceived."

"You are making a valiant effort, I'm sure," Voldemort pronounced smoothly, rolling his pale serpentine eyes. Then, without waiting for an answer, he continued, "Nonetheless, the issue at hand is that you have been married to the girl for two months and the only public image you've accomplished is that of the Headmaster wedding and bedding a student. Is there something wrong with her?"

Severus was silent for a brief moment, considering his words, and then he said carefully, "I believe it is very common, My Lord, for it to take quite a while for a pregnancy to occur… even in a healthy union such as mine. I would not be concerned for her health for a good many months yet -"

"You do not have the luxury of time in this matter, Severus." Voldemort's thin lips curled up a little when he saw his beloved snake Nagini ( _another damned Horcrux_ , Severus thought angrily) slinked up onto the table and curled up before him. She bobbed her head up as if asking him to pet her, and Voldemort acquiesced by coursing his skeletal fingers over the snake's head. Sounding bored, he prompted Severus, "There are spells and potions for issues such as this. I suggest you brew a batch of Ferax Elixir and dose the girl and yourself with it immediately. Also cast _fecunditatem_ upon the girl's belly and yourself before each instance of the marital act. Test her in a few weeks. If these measures prove ineffective, then I believe she will have proven herself utterly useless, and we will find you a more fertile womb. A quick and visible pregnancy is essential for the public campaign of half-blood marriages."

Severus felt a shock of horror flush through him as he quickly tried to think through his options. Could they falsify a pregnancy? How? He could not bring himself to dose Hermione with the antidote of the contraceptive potion she'd taken, and then just as swiftly put a child inside of her. Not in this world. Not now.

But instead of voicing the objections screaming and rattling about in his brain, Severus merely nodded and flashed a little smirk toward the Dark Lord. "I shall begin brewing the Ferax Elixir as soon as possible, My Lord."

* * *

Chapter 2: Darkest Deceptions And Magical Forgeries

Severus pulled out the chair at his desk and sat down heavily, letting out a bit of weary sigh. He'd spent a long while looking for the book he lay upon the desk before him, and had finally located it among his personally bookshelves with a Summoning Charm. He had decided to read through it in his old office in the dungeons - he did not want even the portraits of the dead to peek over his shoulder as he pored through the contents of this tome. He warded up the door of his office and examined the cover.

 _Darkest Deceptions And Magical Forgeries_ by Megaera Brummagem.

It was a worn and beaten text from the late 19th century, published by a Dark witch infamous for having spent her life deceiving seventeen men into successive marriages before murdering them and taking their wealth for her own. Megaera Brummagem was best known for changing her appearance and taking on pseudonyms, hunting down unsuspecting wealthy Muggles and wizards and beguiling them just long enough to weasel her way onto the will. Then a carefully staged illness or accident would leave her wealthy, and she would disappear again.

 _Darkest Deceptions and Magical Forgeries_ was only in print for six weeks before the Ministry of Magic banned it and burned every copy it could seize, claiming the terrible spells and potions recipes inside would encourage similar antisocial behavior. Severus had obtained this copy, the only one he knew to exist, decades previously from Othello Copperfield, the same book specialist who had tracked down _Ende Of Deth_ for him.

Severus opened the thick book and drew his finger down the table of contents, pausing when he saw the words _On Gravidity And Child-Bearing - Page 193._

He carefully turned the text until he reached the worn, yellow page as directed, and he scanned his black eyes over the unevenly printed text there.

' _At times, a witch (or her accompanying wizard) might find it of benefit to falsify a gestation. The author of this tome judges not those for whom this circumstance presents itself - the world has long demonstrated that a woman's purpose upon this Earth is ostensibly procreative in nature. There are times, however, when the illusion of pregnancy is far more beneficial than the actual production of a child._

 _To this end, Madam Brummagem is pleased to put forth several options._

 _First, there is the quick and abrupt illusion of an early abortive miscarriage. This scenario may prove itself useful in an unhappy marriage. It allows a witch to show she is fertile and has 'conceived,' and, yet, does not require the follow-through of a long, arduous pregnancy, a delivery, or of a birthed child._

 _In order to achieve this illusion, a witch (or her accompanying wizard) may cast the incantation 'Praeceps Cruentamque.' The incantation should be cast upon the lower abdominal region, over the womb, thrice. Make a circular motion with the tip of the wand._

 _The result of the incantation will be near-immediate feminine bleeding, cramping, and vomiting that will last for several hours to two days. This should achieve the illusion of a naturally terminated pregnancy.'_

Severus paused and sighed deeply. He considered whether or not this spell would be a viable solution for himself and Hermione. No, he realized. It wouldn't. They'd have to do it over and over again, and even then the Dark Lord would eventually simply say that Hermione was unable to carry a pregnancy 'properly' and would cast her aside, putting someone else in her place. Severus frowned and continued reading.

' _The second and more radical option is a potion which can be brewed to give the illusion of a developing pregnancy. This potion is called the Graviditate Elixir, and the admittedly complicated instructions may be found upon the following page._

 _Madam Brummagem advises that this potion only be utilized by a witch who finds herself under most severe pressure to present the public illusion of pregnancy, but who has absolutely no desire or ability to birth or parent a child._

 _The Graviditate Elixir works rather like Polyjuice Potion insofar as it must be taken continuously (once daily) or its effects will immediately wear off. If the Graviditate Elixir is dosed once daily, the witch will bear visible signs of pregnancy - a growing belly, mild to moderate nausea and vomiting, and other outward manifestations that she bears a child within her womb. However, there will in fact be nothing growing inside her; it shall be a false pregnancy. If at any moment the witch desires to cease and desist the deception, she need only stop taking the Graviditate Elixir, and within several days, her body shall return to its original form. Otherwise, she shall appear to carry to full-term._

 _The obvious conundrum is what to do at the end of a gestational term. No witch has ever used the Graviditate Elixir for a full nine months' worth of deception. The author of this text can not advise to do so, for it is unknown what might pass after that time. It is only known that there is no child growing in the womb, and therefore the social consequences for the deceiving witch and any participating allies would undoubtedly be quite grave._

 _It would be strongly advised to only use the Graviditate Elixir for a few months, then combine with the 'Praeceps Cruentamque' incantation to simulate a miscarriage._

 _And, as always, Madam Brummagem reminds her readers that these deceptions are cruel and Dark, and none should be attempted in the first place.'_

Severus flicked his eyes to the following page, reading over the instructions for the potion. When he realized that it would take a solid week to brew, he decided to get to work at once. If Hermione decided against it, he would simply Vanish the work he'd already done, but time was precious to them now.

* * *

The first snowfall was delicate and light, the snowflakes looking like tiny pieces of lace as they cascaded down from the heavens. Hermione stood near an arched opening in the cloisters and stared down into the glen below, watching the snowflakes tumble and whirl through sky in their graceful ballet. She breathed the cold, sharp air through her nostrils and relished the cutting bite of winter.

"Hello, Hermione."

She turned to see Luna Lovegood beside her, the girl's blonde tresses blowing smoothly behind her in the breeze. Luna flashed her serene little smile.

"Hi, Luna." Hermione curled up her lips, grateful for the friendly presence of a peer, and asked, "How are you doing?"

Luna ignored the pleasantry and prompted softly, "Have you seen this morning's edition of the _Daily Prophet_ , Hermione?"

There was a note of concern then in Luna's voice, and she spoke so softly that she was almost whispering. Hermione turned to face her more squarely and frowned. Ever since Voldemort's followers had taken over the Ministry of Magic, the _Prophet_ had existed solely as a tool for Death Eater propaganda. Hermione had only ever seen Luna reading her father's paper, _The Quibbler_ , so if she was asking Hermione about the _Daily Prophet_ , it must be important. Hermione shook her head and asked, "What's wrong, Luna?"

Luna kept up her preternaturally calm smile, though her eyes went a bit bleak, and she reached inside her school bag for a folded copy of the newspaper. She handed it to Hermione carefully, and Hermione unfurled it and immediately gasped when she read the headline.

HOGWARTS BABY WATCH!

Beneath the loud and obnoxious print were two moving photographs - one of Severus, taken a few years previously, and one of Hermione taken with Harry (they'd conveniently cropped Harry out of the photo). The _Prophet_ editors had placed the two separate photographs side-by-side since they had no photo of Hermione and Severus together. The smaller sub-headline read,

' _Wizarding World awaits pregnancy news from hunky Hogwarts headmaster and his youthful wife!'_

Feeling abruptly nauseated from her abject humiliation, Hermione read on with a great deal of horror. Unsurprisingly, the byline indicated the article was by Rita Skeeter.

' _Unconventionally handsome Hogwarts Headmaster Severus Snape has recently married the young and beautiful Hermione Granger. This May-December marriage, while perhaps unexpected and idiosyncratic, does also seem quite romantic to this reporter! But it's not the dress Miss Granger wore while wedding Master Snape that has the tongues of the Wizarding World wagging - it's when she's going to announce her pregnancy!_

 _Yes, the eyes and ears of Wizarding Britain are upon Hogwarts Castle, waiting for word that the Snapes have done their duty in increasing the Two Magical Parent Population. The Ministry of Magic and the Daily Prophet would like to extend their most heartfelt congratulations to the married couple and wish them the best of luck in being a shining example of the Two Magical Parent Population Act!_

 _This reporter can assure her readers that she waits with bated breath for news of a Hogwarts Baby!'_

Hermione felt her jaw drop open and her eyebrows fly up as she read the shameful article. She felt her stomach flop and then plummet, and she wanted to be sick. She crumpled the newspaper in her fist, shaking her head fiercely.

"How… that terrible woman!" she hissed at Luna, feeling her eyes burn. "'Hogwarts baby'? I'm not a damned broodmare! I'm a human!"

"I know, Hermione!" Luna assured her, putting her hand gently on Hermione's shoulder and nodding. "And your husband knows that, too. I'm quite certain Professor Snape did not marry you in order to make Rita Skeeter happy."

Hermione shook her head no. Luna sighed and continued in a low murmur,

"Even so, it might be best… it might be the most _safe_ thing to do, don't you think… to give them what they want? Bread and circuses and all of that?" She smiled and shrugged.

"So, I'm meant to conceive and birth and raise a child, just to assuage the lust of the public - more specifically, of Rita Skeeter?" Hermione sneered, and Luna patiently shook her head.

"No! Of course not. You're supposed to conceive and birth and raise a child because you married man you love, and you will be a wonderful mother. The fact that a pregnancy will save all of your lives is just an added bonus - the true gift is being a family."

She patted Hermione's shoulder and stepped away, smiling gently over her shoulder. As Hermione watched her go, she trembled with confusion, and knew she needed to find Severus immediately.

* * *

She appeared a few feet away from him with a small _pop_ , holding his pocket-watch in her hand, and Severus looked up from the bubbling cauldron over which he stood to see her tucking the _Oraverit_ back into her robes.

"Hello," he greeted her softly, his hand continuing to carefully stir the potion. He had made a small work station in his dungeon office, and, having assembled all the necessary ingredients, had begun work on the Graviditate Elixir _._

He had removed his black frock coat and tossed it over the back of his desk chair and stood in his white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top few buttons undone, and he'd pulled his hair back into a small tie so none fell into the cauldron. He wanted to ensure everything was just so with this potion, and he worked best under these conditions. Hermione stared at him for a long beat, unused to seeing him dressed like this, and he pinched his lips tightly at her, his hand still moving his stirring-stick in a fluid circle.

"When you've quite finished ogling, Ms. Granger, would you care to inform me why you've Apparated into my office when I happen to know you're meant to be in Advanced Arithmancy lessons?"

"Erm…" Hermione lowered her eyes and blinked a few times. Finally she said, "Did you see this morning's _Prophet_?"

Severus scowled. He made a habit of avoiding the newspaper of late; it was frequently filled with either hateful bile or ridiculous drivel. "No," he said shortly. "I did not. Why?" He looked down and watched as the potion turned bright blue, and he tossed in some chopped rose petals and stirred more vigorously before letting the mixture sit. Setting down the stirring stick, he glanced up at Hermione and cocked an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest.

Hermione pulled a crumpled copy of the _Daily Prophet_ from her robes and held it out to Severus gingerly. He smoothed it on the table and read, ' _HOGWARTS BABY WATCH!'_

There was a lurid article following the terrible headline, and Severus felt a flutter of awful anxiety rush through him. Obviously, he thought, the Dark Lord had indirectly instructed someone at the _Prophet_ to run this story.

It wasn't just that he and Hermione were to be shining beacons of Half-Blood procreation, Severus realized. This was the Dark Lord's way of discerning whether or not he could truly trust Severus - whether Severus followed orders. The article was a clear way of showing Severus that the Dark Lord was not fooling around about the issue. Either he and Hermione produce a visible, public pregnancy, or their marriage would be outed as a sham and a deception, and Severus' credibility would be destroyed in the world of the Death Eaters. The article was also an effective means by Voldemort of humiliation, one of his favorite tactics of exerting power over his followers.

Severus swallowed heavily and cleared his throat. He had not discussed with Hermione what Voldemort had said to him at the last meeting, because he'd not had time over the past two days to come up with an adequate solution. Only in the past few hours had he discovered the potion as an option in _Darkest Deceptions And Magical Forgeries,_ and Hermione had been in lessons all day. He'd meant to discuss it this evening after dinner, of course.

"Well," he said delicately, folding up the newspaper and Vanishing it with neither wand nor incantation, "this issue is actually why I'm standing over a cauldron instead of working up in the Headmaster's Tower today, Hermione."

"Oh?" Hermione shifted her weight and pinched her lips. Her voice was rather sour, and Severus could scarcely blame her. She probably felt as though her worth were being measured by many people in her ability to either be or appear pregnant. It was unjust and ridiculous for such a young woman to feel that way, Severus thought bitterly.

"Indeed," he said, his voice smooth. He jerked his head a bit toward the cauldron and said, "This potion is called Graviditate Elixir. It is taken daily to simulate pregnancy - you would have outward, visible manifestations of a pregnancy. But, of course, you would not actually be pregnant. It would be a false pregnancy."

"And what about at the end of nine months, with nothing to show for it?" Hermione asked skeptically.

Severus frowned and licked his lips carefully. "Yes, well… the author of the book stated that there was some risk about that. No one has ever taken it for a full nine months… one would seek to cease use before then -"

"What if one could not?" Hermione cocked her eyebrows up. "What if a certain Dark wizard demanded proof of a miscarriage? I appreciate your research and work, Severus. Really, I do. But I don't think you've thought this all the way through. This level of deception could get us both killed. I have a distended belly, a swollen face, et cetera… and nothing at _all_ to show for it at the end of nine months? You don't suspect that that degree of ongoing deception, if discovered, would result in hideous torture of murder of both you and me?"

She was right, of course. She was so right it hurt Severus' chest to think about it. He glared down at the cauldron of partially-brewed potion and dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. "I do not have a better solution," he admitted quietly. "I have pondered it for two days and searched through several books…"

Hermione stepped up to stand in front of him, and she reached her hand up to touch his cheek with shaking fingertips. "Don't you think, after all that reading," she began, "that the only real option is to actually _try_?"

Severus shook his head firmly. "I will not do that to you."

"So you would instead have me engage in an ongoing lie so deep and duplicitous that I would be killed for it?" Hermione asked. She nodded and raised her eyebrows. "They would kill me if they found out. You know they would."

Severus shook his head, shutting his eyes against the reality facing him. "You are too young for this. You have a life to live," he insisted, but Hermione interrupted him.

"Are we existing in the same world at present, you and I?" she demanded. "What sort of life am I meant to live? You are my life." She raised herself up onto her toes and pressed her lips gently against his. "Please give me the antidote to the _Elixir Infecundum._ You said you had it."

Severus squared his jaw and gritted his teeth. Yes, he possessed a bottle of the antidote to the contraceptive - the only bottle he knew to exist. Its effects would be immediate. He could give it to her, take her through to door to their private chambers, and start 'trying' straight away.

But what sort of a scoundrel would he have to be to do that? She was still in school. She'd not even taken her N.E.W.T.s yet. She'd not had a chance to travel the world, to have a professional life, to be her own adult person without the burden of motherhood. How could he shackle her with a child - deliberately?

Then again, what if she was right? What if this was the only way to keep them alive and together? Voldemort had vowed that if Severus failed to produce evidence of Hermione's pregnancy, she would be cast aside and quickly replaced. The _Daily Prophet_ was deliberately stirring up public interest in their private lives, and Hermione was almost certainly correct that the deceptive potion would have a terrible outcome. Severus' mind swirled with a vision of a fruitless lie ending in torture and death when discovered.

Could he be a father? He did not _want_ to be a father - at least, not under the present circumstances. Where on Earth would an infant live at Hogwarts, anyway? He'd have to put Hermione and a child up in a house in Hogsmeade, at the very least. And the thought of a wailing, then crawling, then complaining child made his hair stand on end unpleasantly. There may well be positive aspects to fatherhood, but Severus had never personally been on the receiving end of any of them, so they were difficult to imagine.

No, he did not particularly desire parenthood. Not currently. But it seemed there was little choice but to at least _try_ … if for no other reason than to keep Hermione alive and with him. He felt ill as he picked his wand up off the desk and pointed it at his private stores.

" _Accio_ _Elixir Infecundum_ Antidote."

* * *

He'd given her the antidote and told her to go back to lessons, that it would look poorly upon the both of them for her to have disappeared in the middle of the day. The antidote did not make Hermione feel any differently, but she was left with the mingled taste of chalk and sugar and chili pepper in her mouth for the rest of the day.

At dinner, there were a fair number of eyes trained upon her as students engaged in amused conversations with one another about that morning's _Daily Prophet._ Hermione sat red-faced for the entire meal and tried to ignore all of them, until finally a small gaggle of Slytherin girls came striding up to the Gryffindor table.

"Hello, Granger," sneered Pansy Parkinson, crossing her arms over her chest and flicking her bobbed hair from her face. She cocked her face to the side and smirked. "Any news for us? We're all waiting with _bated breath_ , you know."

"Are you?" Hermione asked distantly, flicking through the Herbology book passage she was reading about the use of sea kelp in healing pastes.

"I've heard that the Headmaster only married you in order to demonstrate the Two Magical Parent Population Act," said Daphne Greengrass snidely, from where she stood behind Pansy and Millicent Bulstrode, and Hermione snapped her eyes up with a sharp glare. Daphne continued, "I heard that bit… isn't going well."

"Well, Daphne, I've _no_ idea who would have told you that," Hermione said, feeling her cheeks grow warm. "I suggest you shove -"

She was about to snap a very rude remark to all of the Slytherin girls, but then she heard the liquid voice of her husband say,

"I must admit, I never thought I'd see this group socializing. An unlikely cohort."

Hermione snapped her head around to see Severus gliding smoothly down the row between the tables, having come down from the Staff Table when he sensed trouble. Pansy Parkinson lowered her arms from her chest and stammered,

"We… we were just congratulating, erm… asking…"

"I believe the House-Elves have just served dessert," Severus noted, raising his eyebrows, "if you ladies will find your way back to the Slytherin table."

"Yes, Headmaster," Daphne nodded briskly, and the girls turned on their heels and strode quickly away from Hermione.

"I can stand up for myself," Hermione hissed under her breath at him when they'd gone, looking down at her book.

"Of course you can," he affirmed quietly. "That doesn't mean I don't enjoy seeing them flee in terror."

Hermione chuckled a little then, unable to help herself. She flicked her eyes to the side and watched as Severus made his way back up to the Staff Table, his black robe billowing authoritatively behind him.

A half hour later, she made her way to the library to retrieve a stack of books she needed for an Astronomy essay, and then she finally retired to the dungeons for the night. She was weary and sick of ignoring whispers and stares. Feeling rather like a zoo animal, she was relieved when she finally entered the deserted Potions corridor and was free of the eyes and voices of the rest of the castle.

When she opened the door to the rooms she shared with Severus, she could hear the soft plinking of piano music coming from his old record player.

"Evening," she greeted him, closing the door softly behind her. He was already in for the night, sitting in a wingback chair in his dark green cotton robe. It bared much of his chest, and Hermione had to cast away a flutter of want in her throat at the sight of his skin in the flickering firelight. He had a half-empty glass of Elf-made wine in his hand, and was staring into the fireplace. When she came in, he flicked his black eyes over to her and smiled a bit sadly.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked as she stepped into the room, and she knew he was referring to the contraceptive antidote she'd taken earlier. She nodded as she stripped off her school robes and jumper and kicked off her shoes and knee-high socks.

"No side effects," she confirmed, and Severus nodded his approval. He took a sip of his wine thoughtfully. Hermione felt a little unnerved at the quiet, contemplative mood he seemed to be in. He was peaceful and collected, almost as though he'd taken a - "Calming draught," Hermione intoned under her breath, raising an eyebrow questioningly at Severus. He smirked and nodded.

"I was quite anxious, I admit," he said, taking another little sip of wine. "I am both intimidated and discouraged by the idea of actively attempting procreation. I thought perhaps a Calming draught might at least ease the process. There's some for you, should you require it."

He gestured loosely to the little table beside him, where there was another glass of wine and a small clear vial. Hermione frowned deeply.

"You don't have to ply me with alcohol and sedative potions in order to bed me, Severus," she insisted, unbuttoning her white blouse nimbly as she padded barefoot toward him. "You're my husband. I'm your wife. This is what is supposed to happen."

"Hmph," Severus said gruffly, draining the last of his wine. He set down his empty glass upon the little table and put his slender hands on the arms of the chair, narrowing his dark eyes at Hermione. "Why don't you come show me _precisely_ what is supposed to happen?"

Hermione smirked a little, undoing the final button of her shirt as she stood before the chair. She peeled the shirt from her torso and tossed it aside, and then moved her hands to her waist, flicking open the clasp on her skirt and letting it fall to the floor before kicking it away. She stood before Severus in her bra and knickers and dragged her fingertips lightly around her form - down her neck, over her breasts and stomach and hips, under the waistband of her knickers. She pulled them down and then unclasped her bra, revealing her milky flesh to him.

Suddenly Severus' hands reached up from the arms of the chair and he growled from the back of his throat. He grabbed roughly onto Hermione's waist and yanked her down so that she was straddling him, one thigh on each side of him. He pulled her down and ground her against him, and she felt his hardness beneath her and moaned helplessly.

"What is supposed to happen, little wife?" Severus demanded, his onyx eyes piercing hers as his bulge pushed over and over against her increasingly drenched entrance. Hermione closed her eyes and listened to how his breath came hard and fast through his nostrils, felt how his hands held her waist with a powerful grip, and she shuddered. Her own hands reached down between them and pulled desperately at his boxer-briefs, freeing his stiff cock.

She shifted her hips, up and forward, until she felt his tip press against her. She hissed as she sank onto him, and she buried her face into the crook of his neck.

She rocked against him, and it felt _good;_ it felt right. The fluid movement of shared magic between them, the link forged by their vow of _Magnum Verbum Honoris_ , was particularly palpable tonight. She felt every fleck of pleasure he felt, deep in her marrow. When she came, it was with a juddering sort of tremor in her very core, and it seemed to go on for a very long while. She sighed Severus' name against his shoulder and kissed his neck as she recovered, and then she felt him grow and stiffen inside of her. She felt his hands course up and down her ribcage and then tighten on her waist.

And then, very abruptly, she felt one of his hands fly to her front, to the spot just below her belly button.

" _Breviter steralitatem,_ " she heard Severus mumble frantically, and Hermione pulled back to stare at him in wide-eyed shock and horror. She felt a terrible mix of betrayal and pleasure wash over her as he wrenched his eyes shut and filled her in his climax. The pleasure was his, and the betrayal was hers. The conflicting emotions mixed to make Hermione feel profoundly confused, and as his seed leaked out of her, she felt dirty.

She climbed quickly off of him and recoiled away from the chair, pulling one of her hands up unconsciously to cover her breasts. Severus still had his eyes shut where he sat upon the chair, looking rather pathetic with his softening member, wet from both of them and glistening in the firelight, his hair a tousled mess, his chest heaving.

"Why did you do that?" Hermione demanded, her voice cracking with shame and anger. "Why did you cast the sterility charm? We agreed… _you_ agreed that we would try!"

"I can't, Hermione." Severus shook his head resolutely. "It isn't the right thing for you, or for me, or for any child that would come of it."

Hermione felt her cheeks flush with fury, and she reached in her crumpled school robe for her wand. She pointed it at herself and exclaimed in a shaking voice, " _Finite incantatem!"_

She watched as Severus sighed, shook his head, and said patiently, "It doesn't work like that. I'm sorry, Hermione."

She growled, filled with rage she couldn't explain, and she turned on her heel to go into the bathroom. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to wash the feel and smell of his seed completely from her body.

* * *

Chapter 3: Conlisio Legilimens

Severus stood in front of the armchair before the fire and cinched his dark grey dressing-gown around his waist. He sank into the chair and tapped his fingertips nervously on the small glass bottle in his hand. Staring into the crackling flames, he listened to the shower running in the bathroom and wondered how long Hermione had been in there. A half hour, at least. Probably longer.

She must hate him now, he thought. She must hate him because he'd hastily cast a Sterility Charm upon her just before spilling himself inside of her. But what she did not realize was that he'd been absolutely terrified in the moment that his body had readied for climax. An awful thought had flown through his mind, a horrific vision: Hermione with a round belly, waddling through the Hogwarts corridors in student robes, everyone staring at her. It wouldn't matter whether there was a child in her womb or not. She deserved to enter and live young adulthood without the heavy cloak of motherhood upon her, and if that wasn't possible, then both she and he deserved to fight to the end. But it was in _no one_ 's best interest, Severus thought, for that vision to come to fruition.

He stared down at the bottle in his hand and dragged the pad of his thumb over the cork. He squared his jaw and felt his eyes burn, wondering whether he'd made a terrible mistake in binding himself to Hermione with _Magnum Verbum Honoris._ It was hardly that he did not love her enough. No. That wasn't it. It was that he loved her far too much, and his greatest fear was dying and leaving her behind with a splintered soul.

Severus now knew that Bellatrix Lestrange had a cup of some kind in her vault at Gringotts, and he strongly suspected that cup was a Horcrux. He also suspected Nagini to be one. There were probably more, and Severus knew that the Dark magic meant Voldemort could not die until all the Horcruxes were destroyed. The way Dumbledore had indicated that there was a 'strong connection' between Harry Potter and Voldemort was interesting, as well. Dumbledore had said that a piece of Voldemort was inside Potter, and that the boy would have to die in order for the Dark Lord to be defeated. Was it possible that Potter himself was a Horcrux, as well?

If those three Horcruxes needed destroying, Severus thought, and he and Hermione were among the only people with knowledge of them, they were unlikely to survive. At the very least, he figured, _he_ was unlikely to survive a mission to destroy the Horcruxes. And since he'd selfishly bound himself to Hermione, if he died, she would soon follow.

The water stopped running in the shower, and there was a long silence that made Severus feel uneasy. At last there was a rather bright light as the door to the bathroom opened and Hermione emerged, her torso wrapped in a black towel and with patted-dry tendrils of hair falling in a mess around her face. She paused in the doorway of the bathroom and rested her hand against the doorjamb, sighing as she stared at Severus for a long moment.

"Will you come here, please?" he asked, his voice a quiet purr, and she did. Her feet padded upon the carpet with gentle footfalls, and she stopped when she stood directly in front of the armchair. Then, rather unexpectedly, she pulled at the towel until it fell from her body at revealed her naked form. It wasn't a sexual gesture; it was intimate. She moved to nestle her nude body atop him, curling onto his lap and lacing her arms around his neck.

Severus tensed a little, surprised by the way she'd silently meshed her naked body onto his. He felt a warmth pulsing through his veins - _love_ , at its most private and visceral - and he could not tell if the feeling originated from her or him. He swallowed a lump in his throat and coughed delicately, wrapping his arms around her back and feeling the way her skin was still sticky and warm from the shower.

"Do you _want_ a child?" he asked Hermione, and there was a frankness in his own voice that he hoped she could hear. "Can you see yourself, any time in the near future, wanting to conceive and carry, to birth and raise, a child, Hermione?"

She did not answer him for a very long moment, but he didn't repeat the question. Hermione's fingers played a little with the dusting of hair upon Severus' chest, and she finally hummed a small sigh against his collarbone.

"No," she murmured at last, and Severus felt a flood of relief wash over him. But then Hermione began to shake with sudden tears, and he pulled her more tightly against him. She was shaking her head onto him, her wet hair rubbing oddly at the day-old scruff on his chin. "No," she said again, over and over. "I know there's no good option, no good way around this mess, but… I am nowhere near ready…"

"Hermione," Severus said then, and he heard a sharp clip in his voice that he quickly tried to correct, "The Dark Lord has no possession over your body, and neither do I. You must decide… if you want this."

He pulled her back away from him a little and held up the bottle in his right hand to her. She frowned deeply when she read the label.

" _Elixir Infecundum_?" she asked incredulously. She took the bottle and chewed her lip. "You said you had no more antidote. That it takes five years to brew."

"That is so," Severus nodded, pinching his lips. "But you will still be young in five years' time, Hermione. If all of this is over, and we are still alive, then perhaps at that time it will be safe for you to be a mother. I don't think it is now. I think it best that you are safe…"

He expected her to put up more of an argument. He expected her to bicker with him about the permanency of the potion, about how he had no antidote in case they should get fickle again and change their minds once more before five years were up. He expected her to rail on about how he'd gone against their joint decision and had cast a Sterility Charm upon her without asking.

He was thoroughly unprepared to see her pluck out the little cork and tip the bottle back into her mouth.

He was even less prepared for the next moment, when his left arm started burning with a searing, uncomfortable heat. Hermione looked down at her own arm in alarm, for she could feel some of Severus' pain. She brushed her fingertips over her own forearm, over the phantom Dark Mark that was paining her there, and she raised her chestnut eyes to Severus. She dropped the empty bottle of _Elixir Infecundum_ and put her hands upon each of his cheeks.

"Please come back to me quickly," she said softly. "I do not like to sleep without you."

* * *

The front door of Malfoy Manor was already opening as Severus approached it. In the threshold stood Bellatrix Lestrange, looking ornery and troubled, and Severus felt ill at the sight of her.

"Hurry up, hurry up!" Bellatrix huffed, and Severus frowned, for he'd come straight away upon feeling the burn on his arm. "They're upstairs."

"Is it worth my time to inquire of you _who_ is upstairs, Bella, or shall I simply make haste to see for myself?" Severus drawled. Bellatrix did not give him a snippy response as she was wont to do. The way she simply shut the door behind Severus and started up the stone stairs made him feel abruptly uneasy.

He stalked into the dining room and threw up his mental defenses, just as he did every time he came here. When he entered the dining room, Aberforth Dumbledore was at the table, his head resting upon his hands as though he were in a drunken stupor. The old wizard's white-and-grey hair and beard looked dirty and ragged, as if he'd been too long deprived a bath. Severus had obviously heard from Hogsmeade that the proprietor of the Hog's Head had vanished, though no one was willing to speak aloud their suspicions of where Aberforth Dumbledore had gone.

Voldemort was standing up beside the fireplace, and Nagini was curled at his feet. Severus quickly realized that this was to be a fairly private meeting when the Dark Lord said in a low his, "Leave us, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix nodded but looked reluctant as she shut the dining room door behind herself. Severus felt a silent shudder in the space as it was warded by the Dark Lord, and it suddenly seemed as though the walls were closing in a bit.

Aberforth Dumbledore looked up from the table toward Severus, who squared his jaw and gave the old man an icy glare. Aberforth chuckled, low and under his breath, and whispered dryly, "You're the one I kicked out all those years ago… when you heard the Prophecy. You only heard part. Too bad. I should have let you stay for the whole thing, I suppose."

"We have been interrogating him for weeks," Voldemort said in a slick murmur to Severus, "but the only information I can get on Potter are little flashes… reflections in a broken mirror. We have had the Hog's Head searched. We have searched _him_. There is no broken mirror. Something with a Protean Charm? I'd assume the boy has the other piece. I saw the House-Elf in his head. He is the one who sent the Elf here to fetch Ginevra Weasley."

"If he serves no further purpose, My Lord," Severus began carefully, "May I ask why it is you are keeping him alive?"

Voldemort looked a bit uncomfortable as he admitted, "Yours are the only other Legilimency skills I trust, Severus. Before I kill him… take a look, will you? Anything useful would be… both appreciated and rewarded."

"Of course, My Lord." Severus cleared his throat and prepared to enter Aberforth Dumbledore's mind. Then, rather unexpectedly, Aberforth looked straight at Severus and said,

"He had you get that book - _Ende of Deth -_ for the girl. I saw you carrying it out of the bookshop. I know why. It's the wand, the old wand from the story. It's true, you know; Albus had it for ages. It must be mastered -"

Severus felt a shaking sort of anxiety ripple through him as Aberforth spoke. He was revealing too much; he was not saying enough. Was this about the Elder Wand from the Tale of the Three Brothers? And, if it was, _why_ would Aberforth Dumbledore talk about it in front of Voldemort? Severus opened his mouth, and, in a trembling voice, said, " _Legilimens!"_

At precisely the same moment, he heard the hoarse, serpentine voice of the Dark Lord cry out, " _Legilimens!"_

An odd thing happened then, a thing that Severus would later realize was the phenomenon called _Conlisio Legilimens._ The extremely rare occurrence happened when two people practicing Legilimency entered a mind at exactly the same time. Instead of reading the mind of the intended subject, those locked in _Conlisio Legilimens_ entered the minds of one another, and were likely to have difficulty pulling away.

This was precisely what happened. Severus did not see Aberforth Dumbledore's thoughts. Instead, he saw a swirling collision of his own memories tangled with the horrifying thoughts of Lord Voldemort.

 _ **The crumpled corpse of a plump old witch, lying upon the ground of an opulent sitting-room. A pale hand reaching down and plucking up a golden cup with a badger upon the sides.**_

 _Severus, pleading with Dumbledore to save Lily's life once he'd realized the Prophecy was about her son. Dumbledore asking Severus what he would do to save Lily._

" _Anything," Severus said, in that moment defecting from the Death Eaters and agreeing to spy for Dumbledore._

 _ **The wand-maker Garrick Ollivander, in the dank corner of a dungeon, being tortured and asked again and again about a wand. A powerful wand, one that could conquer all enemies. Ollivander cowering in fear as curse after curse wracked his old frame.**_

 _The first time Severus had given Hermione the Elixir Infecundum. Watching her tip it back and feeling relief flush straight through to his bones. Saying reassuringly, 'I'll fetch you a nightgown.'_

 _ **The Grey Lady of Hogwarts, explaining in great detail where her mother's diadem was located. The Albanian forest. Diadem. Forest.**_

 _Severus in the armchair, with Hermione rocking back and forth atop him. His hand flying to her abdomen. Whispering, 'Breviter Steralitatem.'_

Severus suddenly managed to yank himself out of Voldemort's mind and thought very quickly. He knew that the Dark Lord had just spent the last frenzied minute trying to wrench himself from the Legilimency lock, as well. Severus had only a split second, he knew, to escape.

The quick flash of memories had been devastating for the both of them. They were both vulnerable now. Severus had seen critical and confidential information from Voldemort's mind about Horcruxes, about the Elder Wand. And Voldemort had seen that Severus had been spying for Dumbledore, and that he had been disobedient with Hermione. His lack of loyalty had been made abundantly clear.

There was a Killing Curse headed straight for him, Severus knew. He had to act _now_.

So he thrust his hand down his collar and snatched at the iron pendant there. He clutched it in his fist and said, " _Oraverit!'_

And then he was gone.

* * *

Hermione had managed to yank a comb through her messy hair and had pulled it into a low braid down her back. She'd donned a simple white tank top and an old pair of red flannel pyjama pants, and had arranged herself under the blankets of the bed.

Usually these meetings meant Severus was gone a few hours. It was already late enough tonight that Hermione thought she ought to go ahead and sleep, knowing he'd wake her up a bit when he settled into bed later. But something was niggling at her, keeping her wide awake and antsy. It was a sort of anxiety that wasn't hers. Something was wrong.

He wasn't in pain. She would have felt it if he was. But just in the past two minutes or so, she'd felt a quick flush of terrible fear and unease come over her, and she knew that whatever was happening with Severus, it wasn't good.

So she climbed back out of bed and paced a bit upon the floor, trying to slow the way her heart had begun pounding in her chest. His anxiety was a bit overwhelming, and now Hermione was feeling some of her own, and it melded with his. It was all becoming too much, and she quickly wondered whether she might dissolve into a panic attack.

 _Crack!_

He startled her by appearing beside her with a louder-than-usual noise. Severus did not use his _Oraverit_ as a matter of practice, and Hermione was shocked to see him Apparate straight into their living space. She put her fingers to her lips and whispered,

"What's happened?"

His face was white as a sheet as he wordlessly began dashing about the room. "Where is your bag - the one you Expanded? Get it. Get it now." Hermione felt her breath hitch in her chest, felt her feet frozen to the ground for a split second. Then Severus flashed his eyes back to her as he flung open the wardrobe. He snapped again, "Hermione! Get your bag. We have to leave, you understand? _Now_."

She did not understand. She had no idea what had happened, though of course she was certain he would explain. Obviously, there was no time now. Hermione nodded and swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She managed to stumble over to her trunk and opened the lid, rummaging about until she pulled out the small purple bag. Inside it, she still had a good amount of emergency supplies - Dittany and other medical essentials, non-perishable food items, and some clothes. She began hurriedly putting everything she could stuff from her trunk into the bag, and looked up when she saw Severus' dragon-hide boots beside her.

He was holding out her warm winter peacoat, a hat, and a pair of slip-on trainers. Hermione stood and wordlessly donned the shoes and warm goods before stuffing her purple bag into her coat pocket. She dashed over to the bedside table and snatched her wand, tucking it away before asking Severus in a tentative voice,

"Where are we going?"

"Not certain yet," Severus admitted. "Come with me."

He began walking quickly out of their chambers, not bothering to look back. Once again, Hermione was struck by his urgency. He'd arrived perhaps sixty seconds previously, and already they were running out the door into his office. She followed Severus through the doorway and nearly ran into him when he paused for a brief moment to place strong Disillusionment Charms on both of them. She heard a small _clang_ on the stone floor of the office and frowned when she realized Severus had yanked off the heavy wedding band he wore upon his left ring finger.

"I have no idea what that thing can do," he said gravely, "but if there's any chance it can track us… well, in any case, it's staying here. We're going out to the Apparition Point. We're going to run - _run_ \- you understand me? When we get there, grab hold of me and we'll do Side-Along Apparition."

Hermione felt queasy. What on Earth had happened to so quickly endanger their lives? Had someone else died, as well? Was Harry alive? Ginny? Neville? Luna? What had come to pass this night?

As they sprinted up the staircases from the dungeons, Hermione brushed fearful tears from her eyes and tried to steel herself. She and Severus finally made it up to the main level of the castle and passed by the heavy wooden doors of the Great Hall. She knew their steps were clattering loudly in the corridors, and she was grateful it was the middle of the night and that the castle was deserted.

She followed Severus' mostly-invisible form as he flung open the doors that led outside to the main entrance of the school, and they pattered through the icy night over the cobblestones. Then down over the path they trotted until Hermione's chest ached and burned and her breath was stinging through her nostrils.

Finally, they reached the Apparition Point, and Hermione slowed her steps. She heard Severus breathlessly murmur, "Take… take my hand, Hermione."

She turned back toward the castle for the briefest of moments, staring at its black silhouette in the still night air. This was the second time she'd left Hogwarts under duress. She did not think she'd be lucky enough to see it again. This was probably goodbye to the school. She tried to sear the image of the place into her head, the school where she'd grown from a child to a woman.

Then she felt Severus' hand roughly clasp over hers and squeeze tightly, and she was suddenly pinching and whirling as they Disapparated together.

* * *

 _CRACK!_

Hermione landed upon her knees with such a resounding crash that she cried out in pain. Wherever she'd landed, it was cold and wet, and the moment she tumbled to the ground, she was soaked. Stones upon the earth tore at her knees as she steadied herself, and when she planted her palms upon the ground for balance, she felt the spongy give of rain-soaked soil.

"Here," she heard Severus say from above her, and she looked up to see his hand held out to help her up. She took it and frowned as she rose, her knees cracking in protest. She felt frigid rain whipping her face in the darkness, and she squinted and looked about, trying to make sense of her surroundings.

There was dead grass around her feet, tall and wild and reaching almost to her knees. They were on some sort of barren, uneven surface, and Hermione looked out into the rainy night to see that there were electric lights down below her in what seemed to be a valley. They were on a hill, then.

"Where are we?" she asked Severus.

"Blaenavon, Wales," he answered. "Well, more specifically, we are on the mountain called Blorenge, which overlooks Blaenavon."

Hermione furrowed her brows and pressed, "And why have we landed upon a mountain in rural Wales?"

She knew the obvious answer to that question, of course. This place was secluded and far away from Hogwarts. Far away from Voldemort. But there had to be a specific reason Severus had chosen this place. Beside her, Severus cleared his throat and said in a strange voice,

"This is where my father was born and raised. He married my mother here, and they moved to Cokeworth for work some time shortly before I was born… when he was made redundant at the coal mine here in Blaenavon. I have memories of coming here as a child and visiting my extended Muggle family."

"Oh." Hermione was not certain what she was meant to say to that explanation. Severus had made it clear that his father, Tobias Snape, had been a terrible, abusive beast of a father. Why Severus would deliberately choose a place that reminded him of his father… that seemed odd, at best, to Hermione. But then she realized that they'd rushed away from Hogwarts in such a hurry that Severus had likely simply Disapparated them to the first place that popped into his head and was unlikely to attract wizarding attention. The home of his Muggle family… well, that made sense, Hermione supposed.

She stared down at herself and realized she was a sopping, shivering mess. Her red flannel pyjama pants were saturated straight through from rain. There was a small hole at her knee from a stone. Her slip-on trainers felt squishy from mud, and her hair beat fiercely at her face in the cold, wet night. Glancing up to Severus, she frowned a little to see that he was not as affected by the elements as she'd been. His usual dark attire seemed in order, from what she could tell in the dim light, although his hair fell around his face like a black mop.

"Are we to stay up here, on the top of the mountain?" Hermione asked delicately, shifting upon her feet. "Or are we going down to the village?"

"This way," Severus said simply, and he set off walking down the gentle slope of the hill in the direction of the clustered electric lights. Hermione plodded carefully after him, following his path and trying desperately not to slip and slide in the muddy grass. She waded down the hill, her eyes trained on the wraith-like silhouette of Severus. He was moving smoothly, confidently, but Hermione could feel a boiling sense of fear in her bones that was very clearly his. She wondered why it was they'd had to leave Hogwarts so briskly in the first place, though she was certain Severus would tell her when he could. At the moment, she could scarcely ask him; the wind was howling about them, churning the rain-soaked grass into a frenzy.

It seemed like an eternity of trudging down through muddy, rainy, frigid darkness. Finally, the lights of the village got closer and closer, and Hermione found herself following Severus down a narrow, winding road into the town itself. She pulled her knit hat from her head, for it was so saturated with rain now that it was making her head colder just by being there. She stuffed the hat into her left pocket and checked the right one to ensure that her magically Expanded bag was still there. It was, and Hermione was once again profoundly grateful that, months earlier, she'd thought to charm the bag and fill it with necessities.

She glanced up to see a painted street sign - _Broad Street -_ as they entered an area illuminated by electric lighting. Severus paused in front of her and suddenly turned round, unclasping his flowing black cloak and folding it up into a sopping wad of material. He held it out to Hermione like a bundle.

"Put this in your bag, would you?" he asked her. "It's a bit too… conspicuous, I should think." Hermione nodded and pulled out her small bag, stuffing the cloak inside. Then she heard Severus say, "Set the bag on the ground."

Hermione frowned deeply up at him, but he just nodded once, very shortly, and she carefully placed the small purple bag on the drenched pavement. Severus pulled his wand out from his jacket and glanced about them before pointing it at the bag and murmuring, " _Engorgio - Facerevidulus - Colovaria…"_

The small purple bag grew larger, until it was about the size of a duffel bag. Then it shifted in shape and structure, becoming a more traditional suitcase with wheels and a handle. Finally, the material changed color to be a dark brown or blue - it was difficult to say in the night.

Severus took hold of the handle of the bag and raised his eyes to Hermione. She watched as rain dripped from his hair and fell before his face. He mumbled, "It would look odd to check in without a suitcase."

She was confused - check in? Then he turned around and started walking toward a white plaster building with dark timber trimmings. A small hand-painted sign out front read, ' _Rooms for let - £30 per night.'_

Hermione felt ill at ease as she followed Severus to the building. The place seemed a bit ramshackle at best and unsafe at worst. But she did not question Severus as they strode over the threshold of the door, whose red paint was flaking off into the rainy night. They walked into a cramped pub, whose walls were lined with old photographs and vestiges of the town's coal-mining past. Iron tools hung from lines on the ceiling, and only a few solitary figures were seated in the space, nursing pints. There was an old television perched in a corner, looking dusty and watched into oblivion. Its scratchy, black-and-white picture was transmitting a BBC replay of _Coronation Street_.

Severus walked up to the bar, and Hermione followed, sidling up close to him. She felt less comfortable than ever when a man at a small table looked up drunkenly and ogled her for a long moment. Finally, the ancient barman appeared and said in a gruff voice to Severus,

"Fancy a pint, boyo? Nearly closing time, I'm afraid." The man's Welsh accent was thick, and the gritty timbre of his voice contrasted sharply with Severus' velvet response.

"Nothing to drink, thank you. I wonder if you might have a room available upstairs for the next few nights."

The barman narrowed his eyes and looked from Severus to Hermione and back again. "Bit young for you, isnit? Where to is your father, love?"

The old man looked back at Hermione, and though she wanted to growl with rage at his presumption, she had to guess he was merely speaking out of concern. She did, admittedly, look much younger than Severus. And they'd just wandered in out of the street, at the end of a cold, rainy night. The barman asking her where her father was could be the old man's way of ensuring she wasn't in a bad situation. So Hermione gently cleared her throat and said,

"Sir, if you please… my _husband_ and I are awfully cold and tired. If there's no room here, we shall need to find other accommodations. Have you anything available?" She reached down to lace her right hand meaningfully with Severus', and he allowed the gesture. Hermione placed her left hand upon the bar nonchalantly, so that her ornate ring was obvious.

The barman flicked his eyes back and forth between them again. He still looked very suspicious, but at last he said, "Come with me, then."

They waited in silence for the barman to fetch a large ring of keys and emerge from behind the old wooden bar, and he gestured roughly for them to follow him up a narrow flight of stairs. Severus carried the bag, and Hermione leaned upon the wall for balance as they climbed up the winding way. At last they reached a small landing, and the old barman fiddled with his keys until he found the right one, then stuck it into the lock of an old oak door.

There was a brass _2_ hanging crookedly upon the door. Hermione looked around the small corridor and saw that there was also a room _1_ and a room _3_ , but that was the extent of this place's accommodations. As the barman pushed open the room to the door, Severus smoothly handed the man several bills of Muggle money. Hermione wondered where he'd gotten it - she hoped he hadn't surreptitiously Transfigured it, that it wouldn't change back into twigs and pebbles in a few hours or something.

But as she watched the old barman counting the bills, they looked real enough. He held out his arm for Severus to enter the room, and he said sharply, "You've paid three nights, then. There's a shower and a toilet and a sink. I'll be at the bar should you require anything. Goodnight."

Hermione followed Severus into the room and shut the door behind her, murmuring half-hearted thanks to the barman as he disappeared. She pulled shut the old iron lock on the door and turned round to see that Severus had turned on the electric lights. The room was not as bad as she'd feared - it was merely outdated. There was a clunky dark wooden bed in the middle of the room, and a matching wardrobe. Upon the bed was a duvet in a fairly hideous floral pattern that was matched by the floor-length curtains. The carpet was a threadbare, awful shade of green. There was a cheap-looking painting on the wall of a flower, and a tiny television with antennae for reception. Hermione glanced into the miniscule bathroom, which had the barest of necessities.

Nonetheless, she realized with a jolt, this was better than anything she could have hoped for tonight. She felt exhausted and was shocked when the bedside table clock told her it was half past two. This night had seemed to go on forever, and not in a good way. First she'd made love to Severus, then argued with him about his hastily-cast Sterility Charm. Then Severus had been called away, and the very moment he'd come back, they'd fled Hogwarts and appeared on the mountain outside Blaenavon. They'd trekked down here and finally made their way into this small room.

It was all so much, so very exhausting, that Hermione sincerely thought she was going to fall asleep upon her feet. She was dirty and wet, but more than anything, she was profoundly tired. So she began stripping off her clothes and watched as Severus did the same thing after drawing the curtains firmly shut. He'd lit the stove for heat, and was now unbuttoning his frock coat with visibly shaking hands. Hermione asked quietly,

"When are you going to explain to me why it is that we are here? Why it is we left Hogwarts?"

Severus shook his frock coat off his shoulders and sighed heavily. He dragged his fingers through his hair and raised his black eyes to Hermione. "Are you familiar with the concept of _Conlisio Legilimens_?"

Hermione paused for a moment, then folded up her white tank top, which had been soaked through from her sodden wool coat. She lay it upon the bed and shook her head at Severus. "No," she admitted. "I have not heard of it."

"It is a rare phenomenon," Severus pronounced matter-of-factly, as if he were teaching a lesson, "in which two people performing simultaneous Legilimency accidentally enter one another's minds."

Hermione felt a whirl of alarm shoot through her head at that thought. _Two people… Legilimency… enter one another's minds…_

"You and - _him_?" she asked incredulously, her voice a hoarse whisper as she slipped off her muddy, torn pyjama pants and folded them. She shivered in place in her knickers and crossed her arms over her chest. "How did that happen? What did you see? What did _he_ see?"

Severus nodded, "That would be the most important question," he acknowledged. "I was meant to interrogate Aberforth Dumbledore to discover the whereabouts of Harry Potter. Just before I did, the old man starting talking about _Ende Of Deth_ , about the Elder Wand. It was Albus Dumbledore's wand, like you thought." Hermione felt an odd flush of vindication at those words, at the idea that she'd been correct, but then her anxiety returned when Severus continued, "I immediately attempted to enter Aberforth's mind, and, at the same moment, the Dark Lord did, as well. We were immediately locked into _Conlisio Legilimens._ Neither of us entered the mind of Aberforth Dumbledore. The Dark Lord entered my thoughts in an uncontrolled fashion, and, likewise, I saw his memories spinning before me."

Severus peeled off his white shirt, so soaked from the rain that it clung to his skin like a translucent film. He flung it down onto the duvet and shook his head in frustration as his hands moved to the waist of his trousers. "He saw me promise Albus Dumbledore to spy for the Order of the Phoenix. He saw me give you a contraceptive potion. He saw me sterilize you in the middle of…" His voice trailed off and Severus raked his fingers through his damp, clumped hair again.

Hermione nodded gravely. So, the reason Severus had used his _Oraverit_ was to escape that room in Malfoy Manor. His lack of loyalty to Voldemort had been unearthed in one terrible, accidental collision of minds. But if Voldemort had been able to glean such memories from Severus, surely it must have worked the other way, as well? She pressed,

"Did you see anything of value from him?"

Severus nodded and dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. He put his hands square upon his hips and said, "The Horcruxes. There are more. There's a cup - it's got a badger; it must have something to do with Hufflepuff… a trophy of some kind? It's a small golden cup. He took it from an old woman, a dead old woman. It's in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault at Gringotts. Or, at least, it was. He may move it, of course, now that he knows I've seen it. I also saw him being told by the Grey Lady about her mother's diadem… that it was in a forest in Albania. I think that's one, as well. You already know how I feel about the snake, about -"

"Harry," Hermione finished. She nodded. Severus had never explicitly told her that he suspected Harry was a Horcrux. He _had_ , however, told her that Dumbledore stated Harry needed to die in order for Voldemort to be vanquished, that there was a piece of Voldemort's soul inside of Harry. The explanation was simple and straightforward - Harry was a Horcrux. He must be. The very thought of that made Hermione's insides curl with terror. She stared at the ground and tried not to be sick.

Severus wasn't done. He said gently, "I saw him torturing Garrick Ollivander. Asking about the Elder Wand, though not by name. For some reason, the Dark Lord wants it. He heard Aberforth say Albus had it for years… now that I'm gone from Hogwarts, there's nothing stopping the Dark Lord from going and taking it from Dumbledore's tomb."

"But why does he need _that_ wand?" Hermione wondered aloud. "What's the matter with _his_ wand?"

Then she thought back to the night that the Order had tried to sneak Harry Potter from his aunt and uncle's house, the night there had been a dogfight in the skies. She remembered now that Severus said Voldemort's wand had cast a curse at Harry, but that Voldemort's wand had splintered as the curse backfired. There was something about Voldemort's wand that meant he couldn't kill Harry. He needed the Elder Wand to do so. But if Harry was a Horcrux… well, Hermione considered, Voldemort must not _realize_ Harry was a Horcrux.

She frowned deeply, her head spinning madly as though she were drunk. She suddenly felt profoundly exhausted, and she found herself climbing into bed in just her knickers, desperate for sleep. She could not stay awake any longer, even though there was much to consider, much to do. She yawned widely, making no attempt to be graceful about it, and said in a sleepy voice,

"I need a few hours' rest before I can ponder any more of this. I feel as though I'm going to spontaneously collapse into sleep."

She slipped beneath the old, scratchy sheets and ignored the way the pillows were flat when she put her head upon them. Severus still stood beside the bed, stripping off his black trousers. Finally, he climbed into bed with her and nestled his body behind her, kissing the top of her head and snaking his arms around her protectively.

"The important thing for tonight is that you're safe," he asserted, his voice a firm purr in her ear. Hermione shivered at the comforting sound of his voice and burrowed herself more tightly back against him. Severus brushed his calloused fingertips down her shoulder blade and then kissed her skin. He murmured, "In the morning we begin our lives as fugitives and Destroyers of Horcruxes. For the next few hours, there is a great peace in my mind knowing that only I know where you are, here in this dingy rented room above a tired old pub."

Hermione smiled a little and tried to think of something clever to say back to him. But before she could say anything, her eyes had fluttered shut and there was only darkness and silence, and the warm respite of sleep.

* * *

When Severus finally emerged from the heavy weight of much-needed slumber, he rolled over to see that the clock read eleven-thirty. He glanced beside him and saw Hermione still curled up into a small ball, her hair a frizzled disaster as it hid her entire face. She was naked except for her knickers, but she'd yanked the duvet up around herself in the night. She was still fast asleep, her bare back rising and falling gently with her steady breaths.

Severus stared at her for a long while. Then his fingers drifted up to the iron pendant around his neck, his _Oraverit_ , and he was suddenly very grateful he'd charmed the pendant and the pocket-watch. He'd thought the _Oraverit_ would be stop-gaps, safe backup measures in case he and Hermione became separated. However, they'd now twice proved immensely useful - first when Hermione had used hers to come to Spinner's End the night of Dumbledore's Death, and now when Severus had used his to vanish to Hogwarts.

His dreams over the past few hours had been a troubled mash of concerns. New information about the Dark Lord confirmed that he would be difficult - if not impossible - to fully defeat. And, yet, Severus and Hermione were now in a position of unquestioned enmity with Voldemort. Severus was _persona non grata_ to the Death Eaters now, and if either of them were seen, they were as good as dead. They might as well dash through the streets screaming the praises of Harry Potter.

Severus sighed heavily and looked down at Hermione, his eyes adjusting to the strips of light peeking around the curtains. He gently brushed some of her wild curls away from her face so that he could see her properly. She looked positively angelic in sleep, though he knew her to be a warrior. She could fight wandlessly, and had done so. She had the sharpest and most informed mind he'd ever encountered. And she was determined, and very brave. Severus swallowed a thick lump in his throat, feeling foolishly overcome with admiration for her.

If there was anyone with whom he was going to spend the end of his life, he thought… it was Hermione Granger.

He let his knuckles sweep over her cheek, his touch feathery and affectionate, and she sighed in her sleep and nuzzled her face against his hand. Severus felt a clutching ache in his chest, wanting very badly to know that he was going to be an old man watching Hermione happily drinking tea in an armchair on a summer's morning. He wanted to hear someone tell him that she would outlive him by decades, that she would die old and content with a few cats and a great many books.

But he'd heard the opposite. Septima Vector had told Severus directly that Hermione's life path was brief and inextricably linked with his own. The only hope they had to live on, Vector had said, had to do with a locket. Well, they'd destroyed the locket. Clearly, the path to salvation lay in destroying the Horcruxes - in destroying Voldemort.

Severus had found Dark Magic appealing for a great many reasons. He could never undo the searing of the Dark Mark onto his arm. He could never deny nor erase the fact that he'd really and truly been a wicked enough man to accept it. But now the path before him was straight and clear, and there was no room for error. He could destroy the Dark Lord and hope that Hermione would be that old woman with a few cats and a great many books… or he could fail, and she would die a young woman.

Severus' knuckles stilled on her cheek as he pondered the terrible thought of her demise, and then he used his own Occlumency skills to thrust the thought away, along with the burning that had come to his eyes.

When he stopped stroking Hermione's face, his hand began to tremble from anxiety, and he pulled away a bit, shutting his eyes. He smiled a little when he felt a warm squeeze around his hand, felt his fingers being pulled back to Hermione's cheek. He wondered how long she'd been awake, pretending to be asleep while he touched her. He cupped Hermione's jaw in his hand, and she sighed,

"Please don't stop. I'm at home with your hands on me."

He chuckled under his breath and opened his eyes, pushing himself up a bit until he was resting on his elbows. Hermione cracked her own eyes up at him.

"It's almost midday," Severus murmured softly, petting her hair. "We ought to rise, I suppose."

"Hmm." Hermione nodded against the thin pillow and huffed out a little breath of frustration as she groaned, "Those nightmares I had were all real, weren't they?"

"Probably," Severus nodded with a grim smirk, for there had been quite a bit of nightmare material provided to Hermione over the past year - or seven.

"Make them go away before we get out of bed," Hermione pleaded, her amber gaze wide and shining in the sunlight. "Get the terrible dreams out of my head, will you?"

"I don't know how," Severus admitted, shaking his head helplessly. But Hermione softly smiled up at him and put her palm upon his shoulder. Where her hand met his skin, there was a soft fizzle of energy, which Severus knew was from their bond of _Magnum Verbum Honoris_. He felt a flush of want then, unexpectedly, and knew it was from her. "I don't know how to make your nightmares go away," he whispered again.

"Yes, you do," Hermione assured him, pulling gently upon his shoulder to urge him downward. He growled a little, from the back of his throat, and arranged himself carefully to hover atop her.

He looked down and saw her hair splayed around her like a halo, her face weary but beautiful in the dim light. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, kissed her cheekbones and her lips and the place just below her ear. She mewled softly in response, and her fingers flew up to nest in his own tangled hair. He kept kissing her, everywhere his lips could reach, until there was a static power in the air around her body. She arched her back and grasped at his scalp and murmured his name like a prayer.

Severus put his weight on his left elbow and used his right hand to unceremoniously yank her knickers down to her knees. He pulled down his own boxer-briefs enough to free his hardening cock, and he stroked himself a few times before placing his tip delicately at her welcoming entrance. He propped himself back up and hissed through clenched teeth as he pushed himself into her body, feeling the delightful smoothness of her. She was tight, and warm, and wet. Then Severus had to shut his eyes, for she was beautiful, too… so beautiful that looking at her, when combined with the sensations of his thrusting, was almost enough to push him over the edge. His breath seethed through his nostrils, deep and shaking.

"Look at me," he heard Hermione whisper, and he smirked at her as he opened his eyes reluctantly. They were the same words he'd spoken to her when he'd claimed her the first time. She smiled at him, her eyes gleaming with unspilled tears, and she ordered him gently, "Don't stop looking at me."

Severus obeyed, locking his black eyes onto hers as he rocked and ground his hips against her body. It was a moment or an eternity - he couldn't tell which - and then it was over. He was overcome with a fiery heat that echoed out from the marrow of his bones.

 _That's her,_ he realized, feeling her clench around his member and hearing her whisper his name as her eyes melted into his gaze. Severus spilled himself then, unable to hold back, and he let out a choked little sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh.

When he pulled himself out of her and found the willpower to rise from the bed, the clock told him it was already past noon. His rumbling stomach confirmed this fact. Hermione seemed unwilling to move, at least for the moment, but she looked up at Severus with an air of serenity he'd not seen in her for some time - perhaps never.

"You see?" she said with a small grin. "It's all better now, just because it's you."

Severus smirked down at her and raked his fingers through his knotted hair. He flicked his eyes toward the tiny bathroom, knowing that right now he needed a shower more than anything in the world.

As he scrubbed at his skin with the bar of soap, washing away mud and rain and sex, he tried to make sure that he saw only her in his mind. He would be seeing plenty of terrible things in the weeks and months to come. Right now, all he wanted was to think of _her_ , of how she'd seemed positively angelic as she'd whispered, " _Look at me._ "

Yes, Severus thought, rinsing the soap from his skin and watching it swirl down the drain. If there was anyone with whom he was going to spend the end of his life… it was Hermione Granger.

Chapter 5: Taboo

"I feel utterly helpless." Hermione put down her teacup, brushing the pad of her thumb over the little chip on the rim. She picked up a chip out of the red plastic basket in front of her. Her fish and chips were too greasy; she couldn't enjoy them. She set the chip back down and sighed lightly, looking up at Severus. It was strange to see him dressed the way he was. He'd changed his normal attire into a fitted black jumper and dark-wash denims, and he looked like a proper Muggle as he chewed thoughtfully upon a bite of fried cod. He swallowed the food and nodded a bit, shifting in his chair.

Hermione watched as his black eyes flicked behind her, out through the window of the fish-and-chips shop into the streets of Blaenavon. Then he returned his gaze to her and said, "I admit, it is frustrating… to be privy to so much knowledge and be able to do so little about it."

"We know there's a cup. A diadem. The snake. And, almost certainly, Harry." Hermione counted out the known Horcruxes upon her fingers, scowling as she considered the impossibility of destroying those bits of Voldemort's soul in any sort of expeditious fashion. She looked into Severus' eyes and asked, "How on Earth are we meant to gain access to those things?"

"Well," Severus cocked an eyebrow and popped a chip into his mouth before he said softly, "perhaps the most important task right now is rather to track down others who might gain access more easily."

"Others?" Hermione repeated skeptically. "What others?"

"The Order," Severus suggested, and Hermione scoffed with disbelief.

"Molly Weasley _watched_ you kill Remus Lupin," she whispered quietly. They'd surreptitiously Muffled their table so that the Muggles around them in the shop would ignore them, but she still felt compelled to lower her voice. She watched Severus' Adam's Apple bob as he gulped. Hermione continued, "Ron is _dead_ , Severus. Mad-Eye, Dumbledore… Do you honestly think those left in the Order of the Phoenix are going to trust you or me at the moment?"

Severus cleared his throat and sipped at his own tea. As he set the cup down onto the saucer with a faint little _clink_ , he murmured, "I think they will, when they realize they do not have a choice."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "Why wouldn't they have a choice, Severus?" She was nervous at the way his eyes flashed, for his Slytherin tendency toward ruthlessness contrasted with Hermione's personality at times. She cleared her throat a bit and asked more gently, "Why wouldn't they have a choice?"

"Because," he pronounced in a careful clip, "all they have of value at the moment is Harry Potter. And what I have - what _we_ have - is the knowledge of the remaining Horcruxes, and the knowledge of the Elder Wand, which the Dark Lord will obtain and master in order to kill Potter… something, by the way, which _must_ happen. Dumbledore said as much. The Dark Lord can not be defeated without Harry Potter's death. Do not think for a moment that the Order of the Phoenix values the boy's life above the destruction of the Dark Lord."

Hermione frowned deeply. She wanted, badly, to believe that her friend's life was worth more than a bargaining chip. But there had been countless martyrs in the Order of the Phoenix. They were a group willing to lay down their lives for the cause of the Light. That was their entire purpose - to surrender their individual aspirations for the good of humanity. If it were known among them that the _only_ way for Voldemort to be defeated was for Harry Potter to die… well, then Harry Potter would probably die.

Hermione wanted to think differently, but she could not. Severus was right. If they managed to track down members of the Order and confront them with this truth, try to trade information for safety, then they would soon find themselves allied with the Order again.

"We need to go listen to the radio," Hermione said suddenly. Severus cocked an eyebrow.

"I do not see what that would accomplish," he scoffed lightly. "The Death Eaters have control of the Wizarding Wireless Network, just as they do the _Prophet_ and the Ministry."

"Yes, well… we need to hear, first of all, what they're saying about you, and about me. The Headmaster of Hogwarts disappears from the school? You don't suppose that might get a mention, do you? Before we go gallivanting off to find the Order, don't you suppose it would do us well to hear what the official explanation is for our disappearance?"

Severus dragged his teeth over his bottom lip and gave a conciliatory nod. "You're right," he agreed finally. He pulled a worn leather wallet from his back pocket and plucked out a few notes, leaving them upon the table. He dabbed at his lips with a napkin and stood from his chair, holding his hand out to Hermione chivalrously. Hermione marveled again at the sight of him in dark denims and a jumper. It was an oddly attractive look, and yet did not fit his personality at all. She wanted, for some reason, to see him back in his usual robes. It would make her feel more at ease to see him dressed the way she was accustomed to seeing him.

The day was almost oppressively sunny, though quite chilly. Severus had charmed his cloak into a dark grey peacoat and had pulled a woolen hat over his raven hair, and Hermione stared at him as they stepped out into the streets.

"Something the matter?" Severus asked self-consciously, adjusting his hat. Hermione pulled her own coat more tightly around herself and shook her head.

"Erm, no…" she insisted, snaking her arm into his. _He looks like a sailor_ , she considered with an internal chuckle. Severus' steps slowed and he glared down at her.

"A _sailor_?" He raised his eyebrows, and Hermione felt her cheeks go warm as she realized he'd used Legilimency upon her. She pursed her lips and tried to look angry.

"I'm not used to seeing you in Muggle clothing is all!" she cried, yanking his arm and walking briskly down the street. "Let's go; we've got a radio broadcast to listen to."

"Indeed," Severus sniffed. He didn't say another word until they reached the old pub and made their way up the creaky old stairs to their rented room.

Inside, Hermione opened her bag and rifled around until she pulled out an old-fashioned transistor radio. She sat down upon the edge of the bed and turned the dial on the wizarding radio. It activated with a hiss and a squeal, and as Hermione slowly twisted the dial, the static shifted into a clear, low, droning voice.

"Yaxley," Severus identified, and Hermione felt a shiver go down her spine as she listened to the Death Eater speak.

" _... was assumed that Headmaster Snape and Ms. Granger would have returned by now if they had gone somewhere of their own volition. The Ministry of Magic has searched the private chambers of Headmaster Snape, as well as his office. It is believed that the Headmaster and his wife have been kidnapped and are being held hostage."_

" _And does the Ministry have any notion of who might be keeping Headmaster Snape and Ms. Granger for ransom? Hem-hem!"_ The terrible, shrill sound of Dolores Umbridge's' voice chimed in then, and Hermione scowled. She looked from the wireless up to Severus and back again as Yaxley replied smoothly,

" _In fact we do, Madam Umbridge. Many in the wizarding community are familiar with the joke shop in Diagon Alley operated by the Weasley twins, Fred and George. These two have been renowned for their prankster natures for years, as well as their enmity with Headmaster Snape. However, recently they have gone on the run and have escalated their spell and product inventions from mere pranks and jokes… it is believed that Fred and George Weasley intend to harvest magic from half-blood and pureblood wizards and sell it to Mudbloods."_

Hermione felt her lip curl up in disgust and disbelief. "That is the most preposterous, most ridiculous -" she began, but Severus shook his head firmly to cut her off. She pinched her lips and turned back to the wireless reluctantly. Dolores Umbridge was speaking again.

"... _a reward of six hundred galleons for the capture of Fred and George Weasley. If they are turned over, alive and well, to the Ministry of Magic, this reward shall be paid immediately. As for Headmaster Snape and Ms. Granger, we are also seeking to speak with them about their experiences in captivity and to ensure that they have been neither Confounded nor Imperiused. If they are discovered, please approach them with caution and alert the Ministry of Magic to their location surreptitiously and immediately. The reward for safely locating Headmaster Snape and Ms. Granger is one thousand galleons."_

" _Thank you, Madam Umbridge. This message will be repeated on the hour. And now, we turn things back over to Sonora Liteley for a bit of music…"_

Hermione yanked the dial on the wireless to the left until it clicked and the radio went silent. She flung her suitcase open and tossed the wireless inside, ignoring the rather ominous clanging as it tumbled down into the Expanded bag and banged around the contents. Hermione huffed up to Severus,

"They've gone mad! Framing Fred and George, of all people!"

Severus was calm - _too_ calm, Hermione thought with anger - as he shrugged lightly where he stood and licked his bottom lip. He crossed his arms over his chest and said, "It's rather brilliant, actually. It wouldn't be difficult for the right people to believe that Fred and George Weasley had merely extrapolated their trickery… capitalizing on the chaos, if you will. And everyone knows they had a rocky relationship with me while they were students."

"Come now, Severus. 'Selling our magic to...'" Hermione could not bring herself to say the awful word - _Mudbloods_ \- so she just gulped and mumbled, "Muggle-borns?"

"Of course it's a preposterous notion, Hermione," Severus agreed. "But these are boys who sold Dungbombs, fireworks of all sorts, and every love potion imaginable. For the right audience, it would not be unimaginable that they would expand into an enterprise involving 'magic harvesting.' You must remember, Hermione, that the Ministry has been outputting propaganda on this issue for months now. Susceptible minds will have already succumbed."

Hermione felt angry tears burning in her eyes. "This is madness," she said again, shaking her head. "Fred and George will be killed. You and I will be caught. Everyone will be looking for us."

"This is merely another way for the Dark Lord to sow discord and create tumult in the wizarding world," Severus asserted. He began to slowly pace back and forth in front of the bed. "He's already eliminated Ronald Weasley, and Ginevra is off somewhere with Harry Potter. If he can get Fred and George, then he'll succeed in bullying the rest of the Order to find Harry Potter and hand him over to the Dark Lord himself."

"But that's the same goal _you_ have," Hermione said. She shook her head in confusion. "You want Harry dead so that the Horcrux in him is destroyed!"

Severus frowned down at her as if she were a fool. "Yes," he admitted with a hiss, "but it must happen on _my_ terms - _our_ terms - so that we can obtain help from the Order in destroying the rest of the Horcruxes. Otherwise, you and I are still on our own."

"So how do we make sure that Fred and George aren't handed over, that you and I aren't found?" Hermione asked nervously.

"I should think that rather obvious," Severus said sharply. "We need to find the Order first. Kingsley, or Molly and Arthur Weasley. Nymphadora Tonks. Any of them, really. We have to find them first."

"The whole of wizarding Britain is looking for the Order now," Hermione reminded him impatiently, rising from the bed. "They're looking for Harry. For Ginny. For Fred and George. For you and me. Remember?"

Severus cocked his head at her. "No, I'd quite forgotten," he said snidely, and Hermione scowled at him. She was about to berate him for his rudeness when an odd look came over Severus' face. His eyes narrowed and flashed, as though he'd had an idea.

"What is it?" Hermione asked nervously.

"The Taboo," Severus said suddenly, and Hermione shook her head in confusion once more. Severus let out a quivering breath and put his arms down to his sides. He looked down to Hermione and said, "If we say his name, they'll come here - Snatchers. They won't know it's us. They'll just know _someone_ has broken the Taboo."

"Well, how does that help us?" Hermione demanded, her voice growing a bit shrill.

"If we give them a day or two, they'll likely have tracked down someone in the Order. The Snatchers will have the prisoners with them, and if we break the Taboo, the prisoners as well the Snatchers will show up. We - well, _I_ \- kill the Snatchers immediately when they appear, and we've thus 'found' members of the Order of the Phoenix."

"Or, they appear and kill _us_ , and they haven't got any other prisoners at all," Hermione suggested, her words fast and desperate. Severus sighed and nodded.

"That is a distinct and unfortunate possibility. A risk we shall have to take," he admitted. Hermione sighed shakily. Finally, she nodded. She could see no other way. How else were they to track down members of the Order? How else were they to begin destroying Horcruxes - to begin destroying _him_?

She disliked the idea of murder as means to an end. She did not like to encourage Severus in committing acts of wickedness in order to achieve a good outcome. She feared for his soul, ultimately. But she knew that, right now, his plan was the best idea they had.

Neither Hermione nor Severus got very much sleep that night. They lay in the scratchy, lumpy bed, both of them lost in thought. Hermione finally asked Severus if he minded switching on the old television, and he did. They watched a scratchy episode of _Parkinson_ , a show with which Severus was unfamiliar since it had premiered the year he went off to Hogwarts and he had rarely watched Muggle television since then. Hermione had to chuckle at that thought - Michael Parkinson had been an integral part of British Muggle life for decades, and the idea that Severus Snape didn't know who he was amused her a bit.

They made love slowly and deliberately, neither of them speaking what they were both thinking - that they might die soon enough and this might be the last time. They kissed and spoke softly to one another for a few hours, and eventually got a few hours of rest. When the morning came, they ate breakfast at the tea shop around the corner and wandered into the bookshop next door.

Hermione breathed in the scent of paper and ink and smiled to herself. She began to wander happily among the bookshelves, drawing her fingers along the spines. Severus followed behind her, his hands jammed into the pockets of his peacoat. Hermione's fingers settled upon an old copy of Dickens' _Great Expectations,_ and she let out a happy little noise as she pulled it out from the shelf and began flipping through the pages.

"What is that one about?" Severus asked tentatively, seeming hesitant to reveal his ignorance to Muggle literature. Hermione smiled up at him and held out the book.

"It's a coming-of-age novel," she gushed, "by Charles Dickens. It's the story of Pip, a boy who grows up in an abusive home. He has a mysterious benefactor, and he is in love with Estella, who is being raised by the eccentric Miss Havisham. Pip tries to become a gentleman to impress Estella, but he builds up debt. Lots of other things happen… anyway, eventually Pip finds Estella again, but in the interim she's been abused by her now-dead husband. She forgives Pip and they are together at the end of the story."

She smiled again at Severus, but he frowned, a wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. He took the book from Hermione's hands and shut it rather loudly, pushing it back onto the bookshelf. Hermione pulled backward a step, her mouth opening in confusion. She was about to ask Severus what was the matter, but he snapped,

"What ridiculous drivel. If Estella was too shallow to accept Pip without his debts, then he shouldn't grovel for her at the end of the book."

Hermione let out a trembling breath, realizing the Dickens classic had hit a bit too close to home for Severus. She glanced quickly back to the bookshelf and saw a ragged copy of _Notre-Dame De Paris_ by Victor Hugo. That wouldn't be an easy one to explain to him, either. She thought perhaps they should be done with Muggle literature in general for today, and she asked gently, "Fancy a look at the old coal mine up the road, then?"

* * *

By the time Severus and Hermione settled into stools in the old pub later that night, they were both in quite a state. Nerves had almost gotten the best of Hermione an hour earlier when she'd shrunken her bag back into a purse and stuffed it into her pocket. She'd almost Vanished it on accident, which would have been most unfortunate.

Now the two of them sat at the long wooden bar downstairs. They were the only patrons, for Severus had cast a Muggle-Repelling Charm upon the place. The 'regulars' and the barman would stay far away, unable or unwilling to approach the pub for reasons they would not be able to identify.

Severus had filled pint glasses for himself and Hermione with beer, though neither of them was calm enough to take a sip. There was an eerie quiet and stillness in the place as Severus finally asked Hermione,

"Have you got your wand out?"

She nodded, staring at her full pint with a squared jaw and a look of determined resolution. Severus could see her right hand gripping the handle of her wand, her knuckles white with tension. He leaned over to her and kissed her jaw lightly, whispering into her ear,

"All will be well. You are a terribly bright witch, Hermione… and I am not afraid. Go ahead. Whenever you are ready."

He sat back up and took a long sip of his stout, setting the pint glass back down. They'd agreed that Hermione would break the Taboo, for the Dark Lord's name felt like poison in Severus' mouth after decades of it being forbidden for him to speak it. He looked over to Hermione and nodded in encouragement. She let out a trembling breath through her nostrils and murmured softly,

" _Voldemort_."

Then she shut her eyes, and they waited. There was an agonizing, heavy stillness that seemed to suffocate the little pub. Then, finally, there came a loud series of noises from outside - _CRACK! - CRACK! - CRACK! - CRACK! - CRACK!_

Severus stood quickly from the chair and held his wand at the ready, prepared for anything. He was unsurprised when the door to the pub slammed open and there were three wands pointed at him.

At once, he recognized Scabior, the scraggily-dressed Snatcher who had long been derided by Death Eaters as too low-brow to make it into the upper echelons of the Dark Lord's inner circle. The young man had been a student of Severus', having been a member of Slytherin House about ten years previously. There was Fenrir Greyback, and another plump man that Severus didn't recognize.

"Why, it's Severus Snape 'imself," Scabior said smoothly. Behind him, Severus could see the plump Snatcher pointing his wand at two tall, red-haired figures who appeared to have been Imperiused into submission - Fred and George Weasley.

"Be careful, Scabior," said Fenrir Greyback, as Scabior stepped forward into the small pub. "They may have been Confounded, or worse. Like the Dark Lord said… bring 'em back unharmed if you want the gold, eh?"

"Professor," Scabior said cautiously, crab-stepping forward with his wand held out, "Come with us, won't you?"

" _Stupefy duo!"_ Severus cried, and then, turning his wand to the other two, he quickly realized Fenrir Greyback had cast a Shield Charm around himself. He had no choice; he had to kill the werewolf and the unidentified Snatcher. Severus blinked once or twice to steady himself and gathered his magic at his core. He thought of Hermione; thought of how by killing, he was protecting her. The he pointed his wand at Fenrir Greyback and said, " _Avada Kedavra!"_ He jabbed the tip of his wand toward the other Snatcher quickly as the werewolf crumpled in death. The Snatcher's mouth opened, but Severus was faster. " _Avada Kedavra!"_

The green flashes of light seemed almost blinding to Severus' own eyes. He moved to stand over Scabior's Stunned form and stared down as Hermione dashed over to Fred and George Weasley, whose Imperius Curses were wearing off now that the Snatcher was dead. Severus looked at Scabior, at his bedraggled dreadlocks and his worn leather coat. With time, the Stunning Spell would wear off and Scabior would wake up. It would be most prudent, probably, for Severus to simply kill Scabior now and ensure that the Snatcher could not report on finding Severus and Hermione. But there was an aching in his stomach preventing him from doing that, and he wondered whether or not he actually had another Killing Curse in him tonight.

" _Expelliarmus_ ," he said instead, and Scabior's wand flew up from the ground into Severus' hand. " _Rennervate."_ Scabior slowly sat up, shaking his dreadlocked hair as if ridding himself of an insect. Severus twisted his wand at Scabior's head and murmured, " _Obliviate."_ Then he used a False memory charm to implant the notion in Scabior's head that he was a Muggle, that he was here in Blaenavon in search of a flat. " _Confundo_ ," Severus mumbled, and he watched as Scabior rose slowly to his feet, looking down at the crumpled forms of Fenrir Greyback at the other Snatcher.

"They look like they've had a rough night, eh?" Scabior laughed, and Severus smirked at him.

"Got into a bit of a scuffle," Severus said smoothly to Scabior. "Why don't you go have your pint somewhere else, if you please?"

"Right. Have a good night, then," Scabior said, and he turned and begged Hermione's pardon as he stepped past the baffled-looking Fred and George Weasley. Severus pointed his wand first at Greyback's body, and then at the Snatcher's. He murmured " _Evanesco_ ," at each one, and the corpses Vanished into non-being.

The Weasley twins and Hermione stepped into the pub, and Hermione shut the door behind them.

"Bloody brilliant work, Professor, I must say," said George Weasley, though the boy did not smile. "If you hadn't cursed my ear off, I might shake your hand for it."

"I cursed your ear off in the process of saving your life, Mr. Weasley, as well as the lives of several others that night."

"Yeah? How about Ron?" asked Fred Weasley then, and Severus felt a pit of shame in his stomach. "How about Remus Lupin? Mad-Eye Moody? You save any of their lives, then?"

"With war comes casualties, Mr. Weasley," Severus began, licking his lip delicately. "If you -"

"Please!" Hermione cried then, putting her hand up between the twins and Severus. "We haven't the time to argue. Fred and George… I have no idea how you wound up with Snatchers, but I'm assuming you broke the Taboo, same as us." Fred Weasley squared his jaw and then nodded resolutely. Hermione continued, "Right. Well, the truth is that Severus and I desperately need to speak with as many members of the Order as possible. We have some very valuable information about how to win this war."

"Yeah? Why should we trust you, exactly?" George Weasley demanded. "We were there, Snape, the night you killed Remus Lupin. We saw it happen."

"I do realize the difficulty in accepting the veracity of my claim of loyalty to the Order," Severus said with a little sigh, "but there is a great urgency here. If you could, at the very least, arrange a meeting between members of the Order and Hermione and myself… there is much to discuss, and very little time to waste."

Fred and George Weasley looked at one another for a long moment, as if they were communicating telepathically. Finally, Fred Weasley said, "Shell Cottage. Just outside Tinworth in Cornwall. New Year's Eve. Just the two of you."

Hermione answered on Severus' behalf before he had a chance to speak. She nodded resolutely and said, "We'll be there."

New Year's Eve was over three weeks away, but Severus could see why the Weasley twins were factoring in such a delay. They needed time to round up as many Order members as possible and to ensure they had security at the cottage.

Severus could not help but feel as though he were setting himself and Hermione up for an ambush as he held out his hand to the twins. Fred and George stared suspiciously at his hand for a long moment. Finally, Fred Weasley shook Severus' hand firmly and said, "New Year's Eve. Shell Cottage."

The twins turned to leave the pub. Just as they were about to step over the threshold, George Weasley turned back and said to Hermione carefully,

"Hermione… are you… are you safe?"

Severus knew what the boy meant. He was asking Hermione whether or not she felt endangered by being with Severus. The question was a circumlocution, an accusation of Severus being predatory toward Hermione. Severus pursed his lips a bit and watched as Hermione gave George a sad little smile.

"I'm as safe as anyone could be at the moment, George. Thank you."

She laced her hand into Severus' and squeezed gently, and Severus allowed the gesture. George stared at their interlocked hands for a moment and nodded, then turned to go without another word. As the door shut behind the twins, Hermione turned to look up at Severus and asked softly,

"Where are we going to go? We can't stay here for three weeks; eventually they'll figure out they've got two dead Snatchers and one who thinks he's a Muggle. And that the Weasley twins have vanished."

"You have your bag?" Severus asked Hermione, and she patted her pocket and nodded in response. Severus squeezed her hand and Disapparated, taking her via Side-Along as they left Blaenavon in a sudden whirling, pinching suction.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Hermione noticed when they landed was the sky. It was dark - black as coal and smooth like the softest velvet. The stars were plentiful and pointed as she gazed up, as though there were no such thing as a light bulb in all the world. The vibrancy of the night sky was so striking, in fact, that Hermione gasped aloud and clutched a bit to Severus' sleeve, asking quietly,

"Where are we?"

She'd known they were going to go to Scotland - rural Scotland, though nowhere near Hogwarts. That was all Severus had told her.

"Loch Enoch," Severus said matter-of-factly. "Just southeast of Merrick."

Hermione stepped forward carefully from the spot where they'd landed. The air was cold, crisp, and clear. She felt the crunch of wet granite sand beneath her feet, heard the delicate lap of the water's tiny movements, and she flicked her eyes up and down to see the night sky reflected upon the loch's surface. She could not close her mouth for disbelief of the beauty.

All the constellations were clearly visible - not just the little connect-the-dot versions that Hermione had seen in basic Astronomy texts, but the multi-dimensional relationships between the stars that had been related by the centaurs. She marveled up at the sky for a long moment and pondered the night.

"Is it safe to assume your bag contains some means of outdoor accommodation?" she heard Severus prompt, and Hermione was abruptly torn from her reverie. She turned to face him, trying to make out his face in the darkness. She nodded wordlessly. "Good," he said rather sharply. "Then I think it best we make camp and set up protective spells and wards as quickly as possible."

Hermione could certainly agree with that sentiment. She pulled her small purple bag out of her pocket and opened it, reaching around until she found the tent that had once belonged to Arthur Weasley's colleague, Mr. Perkins. Hermione had begun setting up her bag the previous year, before Dumbledore had even been killed, but she'd surreptitiously Summoned this tent the day of Bill and Fleur's wedding, at the Burrow. She'd left a few Galleons on the table where she'd been as payment, and she now wondered whether or not Arthur Weasley ever received them.

The mass of poles and canvas worked their way out of her tiny bag, and Hermione watched as Severus pointed his wand at the heap of materials.

" _Erecto_ ," he said smoothly, and the tent built itself in a fluid motion. Severus flicked his eyes to Hermione. "Go on, then," he commanded her. "Set up a perimeter of protective charms."

Hermione felt a small swell of pride at the fact that he was entrusting her with the task of guarding their camp, rather than doing it himself. She watched for a brief moment as he slid into the Extended tent, making sense of the charmed space. Then she cleared her throat softly and took out her own wand, gliding it around in careful motions as she incanted the necessary protections. She said them each multiple times, making her way in a large circle around the tent.

" _Repello Muggletum… Protego Totalum… Salvio Hexia… Muffliato… Cave inimicum…"_

When at last Hermione felt the area around the tent was adequately protected, she cleared her throat again, for her magic felt a bit drained from the effort. She lowered her wand and glanced over her shoulder to see the tent glowing a bit from the light of lanterns inside. She wandered between its flaps and was hit first with the smell of cats, and then the sight of the bright decor and enormous space. The Expanded tent concealed a bathroom and a small kitchen. Severus stood in the center of the room, looking mildly impressed as he took in the space. He began unfastening the buttons of his frock coat, folding it neatly after he'd shucked it off. He placed it over the back of an overstuffed armchair and set to work on the sleeves of his white dress shirt. Hermione suddenly craved a hot drink, for the air outside was frigid. It was getting toastier in the tent minute by minute, and she sensed that Severus must have cast a Warming Charm upon the place when he'd come inside. Nonetheless, tea sounded pleasant.

So she opened her bag and dug about inside until she unearthed a kettle and two mugs, as well as a tin of bagged tea. She cast a nonverbal _Aguamenti_ into the tea kettle and set it to boiling, scouring the mugs out with her wand as Severus sidled up behind her. He slid his hands around her waist, and Hermione glanced down to see he'd rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. She shuddered as she turned round to face him. It was attractive enough, to be certain, to see him with his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. But something was nagging at her to keep her distance from him tonight.

Perhaps, she thought with a bit of an internal scowl, it was the fact that they were hiding in the middle of rural Scotland in a tent - because they were wanted by just about everyone, and if anyone found them, they'd be killed.

Perhaps, she thought with an angry, silent huff, it was because some of her friends were dead, and others in grave danger… and therefore the idea of frivolous sexual relations seemed uncouth at best.

Or, perhaps it was because Severus had used the Killing Curse twice tonight and wiped the memory of a third person. Yes, that was probably it.

Hermione sighed and watched Severus drag her hands up to his mouth so that he could kiss her knuckles. She pulled her own hands away hesitantly, feeling a bit queasy. Then, suddenly, she was hit with a shock of alarm, for she realized that her left hand was entirely bare.

She yanked her hand away from Severus as if it were on fire and clutched anxiously at her fingers.

"Where - where is my ring?" she cried, her voice an unhinged shriek. Severus furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head calmly. He said nothing for a moment, and then pointed his wand about them in a little arc.

" _Accio_ wedding ring…"

Hermione waited, flicking her eyes about in a panic and massaging her left hand with her right. But the ring did not appear. She stomped her foot and moaned softly, looking up at Severus with a miserable expression.

"Oh, Severus… it must have fallen off my hand as we were Disapparating! Or back in Wales; I've no idea. I'm so sorry…"

She watched as Severus shut his eyes and appeared to concentrate very hard. He pointed his wand straight out from himself and took a deep, steady breath. " _Accio_ Prince ring," he murmured smoothly.

Hermione felt her eyes go wide. " _What_?" she exclaimed, feeling abruptly horrified for having lost the thing. "'Prince' ring? As in… your mother's? It was your mother's ring? And I've lost it?" She clutched at her hair, ignoring the whistling of the tea kettle behind her, and began to wheeze frantically.

Severus put his hands upon her shoulders and gave her a heavy, deliberate stare. He curled the corners of his lips up into a reassuring little smile. "It was my great-great-grandmother's ring," he corrected Hermione, making her feel, if possible, worse. "I've Summoned it, and, as you know, distance makes no difference so long as the object is clear in the mind. I'm not certain if it will be able to appear through our charms and wards, but I'm not willing to chance taking them down. In any case, Hermione… it doesn't matter where the ring is. It's just a ring."

Hermione felt guilty tears suddenly boil over her eyelids, and in a rush, every terrible thought eating at her mind gushed forth in a violent, sobbing stream.

"I've ruined it! I've ruined everything. I've lost your family ring. I'm going to get us both killed. I've already gotten them killed - Remus Lupin and Ron. Oh, goodness… Ron… if I'd gone with him and Harry, Ron would be alive. But I didn't go with them; I stayed with _you_ , Severus! I was wrong. I let him die. I let Harry wind up alone. I let Ginny get captured, and now who knows where she and Harry are? Poor Molly Weasley's going to have no children left and it's all my fault! My own parents have no idea I ever existed. I did exist! They taught me how to walk. They came to my ballet recitals. But they have memory of that, and they wouldn't know me if they saw me on the street. And it's all my fault. And now I've gone and lost your great-great-grandmother's ring, and I'm _so, so_ sorry, Severus…"

She collapsed into the overstuffed chair to Severus' right, putting her elbows upon her knees and burying her face in her hands. She shook with cries for a long moment until she felt her face being pulled off of her hands. She looked up with puffy, tear-stained cheeks to see that Severus had silenced the kettle and knelt before her. He was kissing her knuckles now, like he'd intended to do, and was brushing the rough pads of his fingers over the bare ring finger on her left hand.

"Ms. Granger, are you quite finished with your self-loathing diatribe?" Severus sounded almost bored. Hermione just stared at him, confused. He sounded like his old self, like the teacher he would never be again. Who _would_ he be now, she wondered?

What sort of future was there for them? If the Light triumphed, what sort of paths were they to carve? And if Voldemort could not be vanquished, how would death overtake them? Hermione shuddered back into tears, feeling entirely overwhelmed. She'd finally had too much, she realized. One person could only take so much, and she'd finally had enough.

She felt herself being heaved off of the overstuffed chair, carried in strong but thin arms, and she reached up to hold fast to Severus, afraid of letting go. Then she felt herself being set down between sheets and blankets, felt shoes being pulled off her feet. All the while she shook and heaved with uncontrolled sobs. It was months' worth of crying that she'd long held back, and it was all coming out at once. All of her guilt, anger, and shame were bursting forth at once like a broken dam.

"What about Neville? Luna? Who's keeping them safe?" Hermione demanded fiercely up at the ceiling. No one answered her. "You protected Luna from the Cruciatus Curse that Alecto Carrow hit her with… who's protecting her now? No one. And, again, it's all my fault. All my fault. Even those damned Snatchers - no one _truly_ deserves to die, you know. And you killed them because of me, really. Everyone's dead because of me."

Hermione shook her head against the pillow and sighed with trembling breath. Somewhere in the distance, she heard Severus' slick murmur intone, " _Accio_ Calming Draught." She flicked her eyes over to see him with his wand pointed into her purple bag, and then a small brown Potions bottle flew up into his hand. He stalked to sit upon the bed and said to her, "You are speaking utter nonsense, though it is not impossible to discern why a person in your situation might be overwhelmed. In any case… take this, please. Both both our sakes."

He raised his eyebrows at her and uncorked the bottle of Calming Draught, holding it out to Hermione's lips. She tipped back the little bottle and drank the sickly sweet, syrupy mixture. She tipped her head back and said insistently,

"It's not going to change the fact that Ron's dead because of me… that I've lost a priceless family heirloom… that I've gotten people hurt and killed… that… that I…"

Suddenly Hermione lost track of her thoughts. The negative emotions that had been wracking her brain dissolved quickly, and a warm sense of peace replaced them. She could no longer remember why there were tears streaming down her cheeks, and, indeed, soon enough the crying stopped altogether.

"Better?" Severus asked her, tucking a small potion bottle into his trousers pocket. Hermione noticed for the first time how terribly attractive it was, the way his throat bobbed up and down when he spoke. She blinked heavily and nodded at him. "Good," he murmured, petting lightly at her hair. Then he shook his head and mumbled under his breath, "All that over a bloody ring."

He stood slowly and recast the Warming Charm that was keeping the tent at a comfortable temperature. It grew a few degrees more toasty, perfect for a night's sleep, and Hermione snuggled more deeply against the blankets. She stared up at the ceiling, feeling profoundly tipsy, as though she'd had three or four glasses of wine in quick succession.

"Severus," she mumbled, feeling him slide into the lumpy bed beside her. She glanced over to see he was wearing nothing but his black boxer-briefs, and she shivered a little. The tent went dim as Severus lowered the lights so that they could sleep, and only then did Hermione realize it must be terribly late. Or early. Whichever. She couldn't keep her thoughts straight anymore. "They'll never have to worry about what time it is," she said piteously, unable to help herself. "It doesn't matter when you're dead."

She heard Severus sigh sharply beside her. "I've already dosed you with an entire bottle of Calming Draught," he reminded her. "What do I need to do to get you to sleep for a few hours?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted, and she reached her hands up to fiddle nervously with the corners of her pillow. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Severus."

He let out an irritated-sounding huff, and then he surprised Hermione by vanishing beneath the blankets entirely. She squealed softly when she felt her knickers being yanked down, and she gasped when she realized he'd moved to arrange himself between her legs. He pulled the blankets back so that he could look up at her, and he pushed her knees apart gently. Hermione squinted down at him through the dim light and tried to pull her knees back together.

"You don't have to -" she began, but that protestation was immediately drowned out by what Severus did next. He parted her knees again and had begun moving his lips up from her knee toward her groin, dragging his lips and teeth over the sensitive skin of her left thigh. Hermione groaned and gripped her pillow, her words dying on the air.

"It's just a ring," Severus whispered against her skin, and the warmth of his breath sent a shock straight to Hermione's core. She went wet between her legs, wanting him badly. His hands held onto her hips as his mouth moved upward. He murmured, "You can't bring anyone back to life. And none the bad is your fault. A great deal of the good is thanks to you. Now, Ms. Granger… will you _please_ try to calm down?"

"Yes…" she agreed, arching her back and nodding frantically. His mouth had reached the top of her thigh, the crease where her leg curved toward her sex, and she choked out, "I'll try to calm down."

"Good girl," he said, planting soft kisses on her labia and purring from the back of his throat. Hermione's hands flew to nest in his hair, and she felt a throbbing heat between her legs. She needed him to make her finish - _soon -_ or else it was going to spontaneously happen.

He was being lazy and slow on purpose as he dragged his tongue over her clit, steady and rhythmic and with just enough pressure. Hermione moaned and bucked against his mouth, worried that she was going to tear hair from his head as she finally moved her hands to grip his shoulders.

" _Please_ , Severus!" she cried out, getting ever closer to reaching the peak that she knew would send an explosion of calm through her veins. Severus chucked against her womanhood, his voice low and rumbling. The vibrations of his voice sent a fresh wave of pleasure through Hermione, and she shook uncontrollably as her toes curled. Severus' fingers dug into her hips, and she knew he could feel her need deep in the marrow of his own bones.

Then there was a firm, quick suction - his lips working on her clit - and Hermione completely lost control. Her fingernails raked over Severus' back and her pleasure detonated. Every inch of her skin was on fire, shaking and tingling. She'd gone briefly mad with the delicious agony of her orgasm, and she murmured Severus' name over and over until her voice was hoarse to her own ears.

Suddenly she was being turned over, moved roughly onto her hands and knees, and she could hear a desperate grunt behind her as Severus took firm hold of her hips and fiercely drove his cock into her still-trembling quim. Hermione cried out, for she was now hypersensitive to the feel of him, and Severus stilled inside of her. He hissed through gritted teeth, and she could hear the way he was struggling to control himself.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered dryly. He quickly pulled himself out of her her and gently turned her over onto her back to lie upon the bed. Hermione, still shaking from the odd mix of sensations, melted a little into the blankets and stared into his eyes as he leaned heavily onto his elbow beside her. Severus raked his fingers through his hair, and his cheeks colored a bit as he explained self-consciously, "It's… the vow… your physical feelings are quite acute to me."

"I know what you mean," Hermione assured him, smiling serenely at him and cupping his warm cheek in her hand. She reached down between them and wrapped her hand around his hard shaft, pumping her hand a little and feeling a swell of pleasure oscillate between his body and hers. "See?" she smirked at him.

Severus said nothing, wrenching his eyes shut and letting out a choked sound as he came messily in Hermione's hand. She watched his face contort as he finished - he looked as though he were in pain, though of course she knew he wasn't. He cleaned up after himself with his wand, but used a soaped-up flannel for Hermione's messy hands. She was grateful for that.

Drowsiness came quickly then. It turned out Severus was quite right about what Hermione needed in order to really and truly feel calm that night.

Just as she was drifting off to sleep upon the pillow, there was a rather loud _whizz!_ and a sharp _click!_ It sounded as though something hard and small had hit the wooden headboard above them.

Hermione gasped and sat up. Beside her, Severus mumbled, " _Lumos_."

His wand lit up to cast a pulsing glow that revealed the source of the sound. There, upon the mattress between them, was Hermione's wedding ring - the one that had apparently been in Severus' mother's family for generations. The green stone glinted in the eerie light of Severus' wand, and he smiled crookedly as if he were more amused than anything to see the ring. Hermione's mouth fell open as she watched Severus pick the ring up and examine it. He cast a few diagnostic spells upon the ring to make sure it hadn't been cursed, and then he reached for Hermione's left hand gently. She trembled a little as she felt it slip back onto her left ring finger, where it belonged.

" _Reducio_ ," Severus whispered, and Hermione felt the ring get infinitesimally smaller in order to fit her finger ever-so-slightly better. She looked up at Severus by the light of his wand and tried to hold back the tears in her eyes. She'd cried enough for one night, but once more she felt overwhelmed.

"Where do you suppose it was?" she asked him, and Severus cocked up one bare shoulder at her.

"It doesn't matter, does it?" he said. "It's on your finger now."

Hermione dissolved against his chest then. There was no Calming Draught, nor any deed between man and wife, that could dam her tears now.

He loved her, more deeply than she deserved. And a fair bit of evil may have come of it. But there was good, too. They'd already destroyed one Horcrux together, and they'd gained information about many more. She had an unfailing ally in Severus Snape, but their unity went much deeper than that.

He'd given her his soul, his very being. If she were broken, he would break. Of course, it worked the other round, as well. But Hermione suddenly realized that she didn't care about that - she would have minded more to lose him, in fact.

Together, they could be strong. They could be powerful. They could defeat Voldemort. And they _would_ , Hermione decided, staring down at her left hand by the light of Severus' wand. They would vanquish the darkness - together - so that their souls might find a long, happy path.

Sleep came quickly then, and when Hermione woke in the morning, she had no recollection of her dreams, good or bad. It was for the best, she decided. She'd needed the good cry the night before, to clear her head and steady her heart for the road ahead.

She stepped out of the tent in the crisp, cold morning air and stared out at the glassy loch before her, for the first time in a long while feeling profoundly grateful to be alive.

 **Author's Note: I will tell you that that's the last lemon for at least four or five chapters - there is a great deal of action in the coming bits, but it's 100% plot! Buckle thine seatbelts, friends. :-}**

Chapter 7: Shell Cottage

 **A/N: This chapter is kind of dense, and I apologize for that. It's important for the plot, so hopefully it's still enjoyable. :-)**

* * *

The next weeks passed in a quiet, contemplative rhythm. Peas and beans and spotted dick were eaten - everything came from tins and was multiplied, the only way Severus and Hermione were able to increase their food supply in accordance with Gamp's Law. Tea was drunk, and books were read, and conversations happened during frigid outdoor stargazing sessions and after late-night love making. Christmas came and went with little fanfare, but neither of them minded much.

It grew almost comfortable, their life in the tent on the bank of the loch. It was easy, and Severus nearly forgot that the entire wizarding world was after them.

Then one morning, Hermione said from beside him, "Today is the thirtieth."

Severus groaned a little and dragged the back of his hand over his half-lidded eyes, still drugged with sleep. "So it is," he acknowledged. The next day, they were meant to meet up with the Order of the Phoenix at Shell Cottage. It was bound to be an uncomfortable meeting at best and an utterly dangerous one at worst. Severus and Hermione had spent the last few weeks avoiding the meeting in conversations. The imminent coming of New Year's Eve was an unspoken truth that was silently acknowledged and did not require discussion.

Until, of course, it was a mere twenty-four hours before they were supposed to be at Shell Cottage. Then the conversation could be put off no longer. Severus pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked down to where Hermione lay upon her back, her hair fanned out majestically about her head. She clasped her hands over her stomach and said,

"It's all going to be fine, Severus. The last time I saw the Weasleys, I explained to them that everything you'd done was on Dumbledore's orders…"

"I did not kill Remus Lupin on Dumbledore's orders," Severus mumbled, yanking his fingers through his hair and feeling it knot up in resistance. Hermione frowned at him, and Severus scowled right back.

Surely she was too bright not to realize that things had changed since the day of Bill Weasley's planned wedding. Ronald Weasley had been alive then, and Ginevra had not yet been used (by Severus) as bait. Lupin hadn't been dead then, either, nor Mad-Eye Moody. And George Weasley still had both ears that afternoon. The only thing Hermione had been required to explain away was the death of Albus Dumbledore, and that was easy enough. Too much had happened since then.

"Never underestimate the wrathful vitriol, nor the magical prowess, of a grieving mother," Severus instructed Hermione. She licked her dry bottom lip and sighed up at Severus in response before asking in a quiet murmur,

"Why _did_ you kill Remus Lupin, Severus?"

"I had to do it," Severus said automatically, though of course he had no idea anymore whether or not that was true. Hermione did not argue. Instead, she swallowed heavily and said,

"I dreamed about the Elder Wand. I have an idea."

Severus sat up straighter and flicked his eyes to the little table beside the tent's lumpy bed. There sat the moss agate that Luna Lovegood had given months earlier to Hermione. It was said to induce pleasant or useful dreams, Hermione had told him. Severus had rolled his eyes and chuckled at the idea. Now he wasn't quite as skeptical. He cocked his eyebrows up as he looked back at Hermione, urging her to continue.

" _Ende of Deth_ indicates that all three Deathly Hallows must be in one's possession in order to the Master of Death. Of course, we don't yet know where the Resurrection Stone is. But Harry has an Invisibility Cloak - at least, I'm assuming he's got it with him. Then there's the Elder Wand."

Severus nodded slowly at her, and Hermione pulled herself up to sit, staring determinedly at Severus. She played anxiously with the hem of her nightshirt and said,

"I dreamed last night that you and Draco Malfoy were duelling. You Stunned him, and then you used your _Oraverit_ to disappear. When you reappeared beside me, I was holding the Elder Wand and handed it to you. You flicked it toward a fireplace and the flames turned green, and you said, 'The Wand knows its Master.'"

Severus frowned deeply at her and thought. Draco Malfoy…

Then he realized what had happened. He thought back to that fateful night on the Astronomy Tower, the night he'd killed Albus Dumbledore. Of course, the Elder Wand had been in the possession of Dumbledore for years (or so his brother said). But the events on the Astronomy Tower that night had given the Elder Wand a new Master. Draco Malfoy.

"But I don't understand," Severus heard Hermione saying. " _You_ killed Professor Dumbledore… shouldn't you already be the Master of the Elder Wand?"

"No." Severus shook his head. "First of all, I did not use a Killing Curse upon Albus Dumbledore; I merely Disarmed him. The reason that curse sent him flying is because he had no wand when I disarmed him. It had already been hexed away from him by -"

"Draco." Hermione nodded. "Draco 'conquered' Professor Dumbledore, but you never conquered Draco. The Wand is still subject to Draco."

"Indeed. I believe that is correct." Severus nodded and let out a shaky breath. It was quite a bit to consider. Then the question in his mind quickly shifted toward what to make of this knowledge. He said to Hermione, "We need to go to Hogwarts. If the Elder Wand is still in Dumbledore's tomb, we need to get it before the Dark Lord does. Then, essentially, the course of your rather prophetic dream needs to come to pass. Somehow, I need to corner Draco Malfoy and Stun or Disarm him, giving me Mastery over the Elder Wand."

"Then Harry will do the same to you, and he'll have it to help defeat Vo - to defeat _him_." Hermione nodded fervently. Severus felt a stab of unease at the complicated thought.

"All of this, of course, is predicated on the notion that we will, at some point, be able to _get_ the wand to Harry Potter. And that we'd have the Resurrection Stone, which we currently do not."

Then, all of a sudden, it was as though someone had switched on a Muggle electric light inside Severus' mind. He thought back to the previous year, when Albus Dumbledore had come to him with the frightening marks of a lethal curse. He'd begged Severus to help him, to brew him a potion to slow the curse. Dumbledore had explained that the damage had been done when he'd put on a ring. He'd been tempted, he'd told Severus. Something about the ring had tempted him.

Severus could see the ring now, lying upon Albus Dumbledore's desk, its ugly black stone cracked and broken - defeated by the shining, powerful Sword of Gryffindor.

Just as the locket had been broken and defeated by another very powerful blade.

That ring had been a Horcrux, Severus realized quickly. He began explaining the memory to Hermione, trying to tell her every detail he could recall. He finished by describing the way Albus Dumbledore had been 'tempted' - by what, he would not say.

"The Resurrection Stone gives the user the power to bring back shadows of the beloved dead," Hermione mused softly. "That would be very tempting. Dumbledore knew about the Elder Wand. I'm certain he knew about Harry's cloak. He sent you to obtain the copy of _Ende of Deth_ for a reason. He must have known about the Resurrection Stone - he must have realized that's what was in the ring."

"But, alas, dear Albus is nowhere near to instruct us upon the stone's current location," Severus considered. "And it shall be quite the feat sneaking onto Hogwarts grounds undetected to 'conquer' Draco and retrieve the wand."

"Maybe it isn't _us_ who needs to do that," Hermione suggested, and when Severus looked confused, she offered hastily,

"There need only be a chain of Mastery over the wand, yes? What if we're able to convince some of the Order members - someone with existing access to the school, like Professor McGonagall - to get the Elder Wand and Disarm Draco before casting a Memory Replacement Charm?"

Severus nearly scoffed at that notion, at the thought of Minerva McGonagall battling a student - on _purpose_ \- and tomb-raiding the grave of Albus Dumbledore. But then he considered that these were the only ways of keeping Lily's son alive, and even then it was a longshot.

"I suppose we have much to discuss at Shell Cottage," he acknowledged. "Now… perhaps we ought to begin packing, eh?"

"It's our last day here," Hermione insisted, and she lay back down upon the bed and patted the empty pillow beside her. "Who knows when next we'll be able to just lie side-by-side like this? Come lie with me, Severus."

So he did, letting her curl her body onto his torso and cast her leg over his hips. She was warm and soft, and the morning was adequately long and lazy.

 _The quietest calms come before the most violent of tempests_ , Severus thought with a cringe of unease, planting a soft kiss on the crown of Hermione's head. And he waited for the storm.

* * *

The air was considerably warmer when they landed with a controlled _pop_ on the beach in Cornwall. Hermione looked about herself in the blinding midday sun, letting the brisk winter air whip her hair around her face. She thrust her hands into her pockets and felt her drawstring back there, safely containing every worldly possession she now had.

The sea was an angrily churning, jade green beast as it crashed hard upon the shore. Every wave brought a fresh thud and _whoosh_ as the tide washed the sand.

Hermione glanced down the beach and saw a lonely-looking brown house, small but sturdy where it stood upon the sand. Thinking that that must be the place, Hermione whispered, "Right…" and determinedly set off toward the cottage. She thrust away all the fear she could, trying to tell herself that they were going to meet with friends.

"You know," she said to Severus as they walked, "Bridget Wenlock lived here, in Tinworth. She's the one that discovered the magical properties of the number seven -"

"Yes, I know very well who Bridget Wenlock is," Severus snapped from beside her. Hermione glanced up as she trudged through the sand and saw that he was smirking down at her. His hair was whirling in the air, wild strands of raven silk. His traveling cloak snapped and cracked as it billowed out behind him in the wind.

Suddenly there was a slight vibration that cast over the both of them, and Hermione heard Severus chuckle, low and rumbling, under his breath.

"What was that?" Hermione asked, her eyes going wide with alarm. Severus smoothly replied,

"That was us passing through their wards. They will have done them up specifically to keep out enemies. The fact that we've passed through means that we aren't enemies. Hopefully it will imbue them with some sense of trust."

"Stop saying, 'them.'" Hermione insisted, dragging her feet through the sand. It stung her skin wherever it flew up to hit her in the cold wind. "It's not 'us' and 'them.' The Order is our only hope now."

Severus said nothing in response to that. Hermione felt a bit of dread come back over her as they stepped up the walkway and paused in front of the ancient wooden door. Hermione stood frozen in her shoes and stared mutely at the door for a long moment before Severus cleared his throat beside her and said,

"I believe, Ms. Granger, that it is social protocol when arriving at a residence to announce one's presence by knocking." He cocked an eyebrow at her rather disapprovingly and raised his own fist to the door. He rapped four times and then pulled back beside her, holding his wand firmly in his right hand and letting out a little sigh.

There was the briefest of pauses before the door slowly creaked open. Hermione was not certain who she expected to answer the door - Molly Weasley, probably, or Arthur. Perhaps Kingsley Shacklebolt, or the twins, since they'd been the ones to set up this meeting.

She was therefore most unprepared to see Tonks in the doorway, her left hand resting upon the soft little swell of her pregnant belly.

Hermione felt an instant stab of guilt and pain and horror. This woman's husband, and the father of her unborn child, was dead, and it had happened at Severus' hand. Now, here they stood, face-to-face with Nymphadora Tonks. She looked mousy and weary, her brown hair grown out a bit and tied up into a small, messy half-bun atop her head. She wore no makeup, but her eyes and lips looked swollen and red, as if she'd been crying for some time. Hermione wondered if she'd ever stopped crying after Remus Lupin had died.

Finally, Severus spoke.

"Good afternoon," he said in a silky murmur, sounding unaffected by the presence of Lupin's wife and unborn child before him. Hermione knew he wasn't - knew he keenly felt the weight of his many deeds - but Severus was nothing if not an actor.

"Good afternoon," Tonks whispered back, her voice a cold, harsh clip. She deliberately moved her hand on her belly, and Hermione tore her eyes away. She heard Tonks' hoarse voice say, "They're all in here."

She walked into the cottage, turning away from them without another word. Hermione swallowed heavily and looked up to Severus. He squared his jaw and followed Tonks over the threshold and into the cramped entryway of the little cottage. Hermione followed, shutting the heavy wooden door behind her. The cottage was surprisingly bright and airy. It seemed as though it could be quite a happy place, under the right circumstances. Today was not that set of circumstances.

They followed Tonks through a small, sunny kitchen, and then Hermione saw that beyond her was a dining room filled with people. Some were sitting, others standing. All had once been counted among her friends. Now she had no idea.

There was Molly Weasley, seated at the table with a morose expression upon her face. Hermione noticed at once that Molly seemed to have aged twenty years since last they'd seen one another. Her red hair had greyed considerably, and there were deep wrinkles around her thinned-out face. Arthur Weasley stood behind her chair, his hands perched protectively upon Molly's shoulders. Beside them were Fred and George, and beside the twins were Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour. On the other side of the table, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Professor McGonagall sat side-by-side. The room was heavy with the absence of Ron, Ginny, and Harry.

"Hello, _Headmaster_ ," said Fred Weasley from the table. Hermione and Severus stood awkwardly in the doorway, and Hermione watched as Fred cocked his head and gave a sour little smirk. "Lovely to see you again."

"Let us get straight to the matter at hand, shall we, Fred?" Arthur Weasley tightened his hands upon Molly's shoulders, and Hermione felt a twist in her stomach as she made eye contact with the Weasley matriarch. In Molly's eyes, she could see the pain of losing Ron, the fear she had for Ginny. Just as she'd done with Tonks at the front door, Hermione forced herself to look away. She stared at her shoes and listened as Arthur said, "You managed your way through our wards. Did you break them, or are you truly allies?"

"Our swift disappearance from Hogwarts happened because Hermione and I are no longer able to keep up the ruse of geniality with the Death Eaters," Severus pronounced. "The Dark Lord discovered I was working for Dumbledore - that I've been acting for years for the Order."

"How did he discover _that_ , exactly?" demanded Tonks. She waddled into the dining room, and Fred Weasley stood quickly from his chair to allow her to sit down. She gratefully took the seat and looked up at Severus for an answer. Hermione did the same, watching Severus' eyes tense minutely before he told the young Auror,

" _Consilio Legilimens._ "

There was a beat of silence, and then Tonks said in a soft murmur, to the rest of the table, "It's when two minds output Legilimency at precisely the same moment, upon the same target. Instead of hitting the target, they hit one another."

"The Dark Lord and I happened to attempt to enter the mind of Aberforth Dumbledore at exactly the same time," Severus said. "There was a moment of uncontrolled Legilimency in which each of us revealed truths the that made us susceptible to the other. I managed to escape and have been on the run since."

Hermione watched Kingsley Shacklebolt's mouth open in disbelief, and then Professor McGonagall asked skeptically,

"Well, what did he see, Severus? What did _you_ see?"

Hermione decided to answer for Severus, feeling as though it were very important that they present a united front. She also wanted to make clear that she - an undying ally and friend to Harry Potter - was also linked inextricably with Severus Snape. So she said, " _He_ saw in Severus' mind the moment that Severus agreed to work for the Order. He also saw Severus administer me a… erm… a contraceptive potion. In direct defiance of his orders to procreate."

She hadn't meant, perhaps, to say that last bit, though it was important. Her cheeks colored with embarrassment and she went quiet again. Those around the table looked from Severus to Hermione and back again, their expressions ranging from disgust to disbelief. Beside Hermione, Severus cleared his throat quietly and said,

"And I was able to discern more information on a topic we'd already begun exploring - Horcruxes. The Dark Lord split his soul into many pieces. I believe two of the Horcruxes have already been destroyed - one, a ring that cursed Albus Dumbledore before he 'killed' it with the Sword of Gryffindor. I saw the cracked ring with my own eyes, and I made him a potion to stem the damage. But the curse was fatal, and it was one of the reasons he demanded I kill him instead of Draco."

Tonks scowled at Severus and looked as though she were going to interrupt, to say something. Her hair turned a rather putrid shade of golden-green, and then flared back to brown. She thought the better of speaking up and sighed. Then Hermione decided to speak up again.

"The second was a locket. Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley..." she waited until Ron's parents made eye contact with her, and then she tearfully said, "Before Ron was killed, he very bravely pushed thoughts of this locket toward Severus. That's how Ron was captured - trying to get the locket from Dolores Umbridge. Severus got the locket, and we destroyed it using a Wyvern dagger that was given to me by Luna Lovegood. Ron died a hero, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley. He'll always be my hero."

Tears tumbled freely from her eyes then, and Mrs. Weasley shocked Hermione by rising slowly from her chair and holding out her arms in resolute silence. Hermione dashed over to Mrs. Weasley and collapsed against her, crying hard into her shoulder for a long moment as the woman wrapped her arms around Hermione and patted her gently.

"Hush, now," Molly said soothingly. "Ron wouldn't want to see you like this, hmm?"

Hermione pulled away, and Molly put her hands on Hermione's cheeks. She gave a gentle squeeze and smiled, though her eyes glistened with sadness. Hermione nodded and whispered,

"I'm sorry."

She slowly made her way back to Severus' side, brushing her shoulder against his arm as she situated herself beside him. There was a pleasant warmth around her right hand as he linked his fingers with hers, and Hermione felt as though she were going to cry again. But she managed to dam back her tears, and she listened as Severus said,

"There are other Horcruxes that still must be destroyed. The snake - Nagini - is one, I believe. There's a diadem, and a cup. I saw them in his mind. Most notably is Potter himself. Dumbledore revealed to me that the boy bears a bit of the Dark Lord in him from the rebounded Killing Curse… I believe Potter is a Horcrux, though I do not think the Dark Lord knows that. Of course, in order for the Dark Lord to be truly vanquished, all the Horcruxes must be destroyed. Then, and only then, can his corporeal form be killed and he will be truly eliminated."

"Then Harry Potter is going to die in the name of victory?" Minerva McGonagall sounded horrified. Severus sighed a little and spent a long while explaining their theory on the Hallows. He told the group about the Elder Wand - how Aberforth Dumbledore had revealed that it had belonged to Albus Dumbledore for decades. How Draco had almost certainly gained Mastery of the Wand the night of Dumbledore's death, and how Draco would need to be defeated to some capacity in order for the Wand to be ultimately used by Harry Potter. He explained his notion that the Resurrection Stone had been contained in the cursed ring, and the idea that James' Invisibility Cloak would be the final piece of the puzzle.

"With all three Hallows, perhaps - _perhaps_ \- the boy may be the fanciful 'Master of Death' and survive an encounter with the Dark Lord," Severus concluded, sounding exhausted. "But it was made very clear to me by Albus Dumbledore that, ultimately, the bit of the Dark Lord inside of Harry Potter must be destroyed. I have no idea whether or not these two ends - his survival and the destruction of the Horcrux - are both possible, or whether they are mutually exclusive."

There was a very long silence then, as everyone in the room contemplated the enormous amount of information that had been bandied about. Finally, Kingsley Shacklebolt asked,

"And you, Hermione… you've been figuring all of this out with Snape? This is how the two of you have spent the past six months? Destroying Dark soul-vessels, researching Mastery of Death in order to defeat the Chief Death Eater?" Despite Kingsley's odd terminology, his tone was almost fierce. Hermione nodded at him.

"Yes," she affirmed. "All we've been trying to do is finish Dumbledore's work. It's just… we got caught."

There was another silence then. It seemed as though there was a weight being lifted a bit from the dining room as the suspicion and enmity that had grown up among its inhabitants dissipated slightly. Finally, the silence was broken when Hermione's stomach growled ferociously; she'd been far too nervous for breakfast that morning. Fleur Delacour stepped forward, away from her husband Bill, and asked in a delicate French accent,

"'Ermione, Professor Snape… come, right this way… I 'ave food, and tea, and wine. Make yourselves feel very much at 'ome here, yes?"

* * *

Hermione picked up a small grey stone and turned it over in her hand, studying the way blue and green veins ran through it. She looked up to the sea as her hair whipped her face, and then she tossed the stone into the waves. It landed with a rather unimpressive _plop_ , vanishing beneath the angry, tossing tide. Hermione felt her eyes burn, and she wondered distantly whether the sensation was caused by the wind or by something else.

She thought back to the few hours before Professor McGonagall had left Shell Cottage, to the furtive conversation Hermione had managed with her. Professor McGonagall had told Hermione that Alecto Carrow had taken over as Interim Headmistress of Hogwarts in Severus' absence. However, she was running the school (with an iron fist, apparently) from the Slytherin dungeons, for the Headmaster's Office would not grant her admission. She was a usurper, and the castle knew that. The students were being terrorized worse now than ever by the Carrows, from the sounds of it, though it seemed McGonagall and the other well-intentioned professors were doing all they could to protect their charges.

Hermione wiped her face with her sleeve and sighed, picking up another rock.

"Toss them all you like, but it'll only make you feel better for a brief moment."

There was a soft _oof_ and a dark blur as Tonks settled onto the sand beside Hermione. She rubbed her hands together to rid herself of the loose grains, and then settled her hands onto the gentle swell of her belly. Hermione felt a terrible pang of guilt course through her as she eyed the turquoise-haired woman beside her, and she asked quietly,

"How are you feeling, Tonks? Physically, I mean?"

Tonks shrugged and stared out at the ocean. She plucked a few strands of seagrass from the beach beside her and mumbled, "I was sick for a while after Remus was… after he died. I wasn't sure if it was morning sickness or if I just couldn't get over the sight of him bleeding out on the floor in front of me. It didn't matter, probably."

Hermione felt herself roiled with nausea then, and she shut her eyes against the feel of it. "I'm very sorry," she whispered, and Tonks answered roughly,

"Don't be. It was all a mess that night, Hermione. It was all very complicated. I was very angry when it happened. I still am. But I know full well that if Snape had knitted up Remus' wounds in front of all those Death Eaters, there wouldn't have been an Order member left alive in the end."

Hermione cracked open her eyes, feeling a few tears escape, and was surprised to see Tonks weaving the strands of seagrass into a tight braid. Tonks rubbed her small bump as she continued,

"I begged Snape to look into my head. Showed him that I was pregnant. He told me to run, so I did. There are a lot of awful sights from that night I'll never forget, Hermione… least of all the look of horror in your husband's eyes when he told me to run."

She handed Hermione the little braid of seagrass. Hermione furrowed her brow and took it, and she said quietly,

"I hope you know, Tonks, that he didn't want to do any of it. For either side."

"I know that." Tonks nodded. "I may not like Snape. But he's not an enemy. He's been used and abused, and he's taken his punches, that's for certain."

She sniffed quietly and shook her head a few times as if to steady herself. She started to push herself off the sand, and Hermione rushed up to help the pregnant woman stand. Tonks' turquoise hair blew about in the wind, and then Hermione noticed Tonks was holding two small stones. She turned and threw one out into the ocean, just as Hermione had done earlier. It landed with a slightly larger splash than Hermione's rock had done, and Tonks shrugged.

"Only helps for a moment," she said again, "but it does help."

She handed the other stone to Hermione, and then she turned to trudge back to Shell Cottage, cradling her belly in her hands as she went.

* * *

Severus sipped at the tea Molly Weasley had brewed for him, feeling a bit guilty at the way the bereaved mother was fussing over him. He'd insisted that _she_ sit down and let _him_ get _her_ something to drink and eat, but of course the woman was Molly Weasley and was having none of that.

Some of the Order who had assembled for the brief meeting had left again, gone off to their respective secret hiding places. Those remaining at the cottage were Tonks, Bill and Fleur, Arthur and Molly, and Severus and Hermione. Even with just the seven, the little house felt positively overwhelmed, and so Hermione had gone out to the beach to get air. Tonks seemed to have followed, and as Severus peered out the window, he could see the two of them sitting on the sand. He hoped they were making things as right as one might reasonably expect between them.

Bill and Fleur were out in the garden, tending to the vegetables growing there, and Severus sat in the kitchen with Arthur as Molly flitted about like a fretful hen. Severus looked up from his tea and noticed again how very _tired_ Arthur looked. The grooves beneath the man's eyes seemed to extend to his very soul. Arthur raked his fingers through his faded ginger hair and said quietly,

"The cup. You say it's at Gringotts."

"Well, it was there last, to the best of my knowledge. It was in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault. And, as far as I know, the Dark Lord is unaware that I know of the thing. As I've said, I overheard a conversation between him and Bellatrix discussing the cup; I did not see it in his mind. However, now that the phenomenon of _Consilio Legilimens_ has occurred between the two of us, I do not think it unreasonable to suspect that the Dark Lord might relocate as many of the items as possible. It may not be at Gringotts anymore. However, it is certainly worth looking."

"Even if it were there, getting into Bellatrix Lestrange's vault to steal the thing would prove nearly impossible, wouldn't it?" Molly Weasley noted, turning to the table with a tray full of shortbread. She set down the tray and picked one up, nibbling anxiously as she slid onto the worn wooden bench beside Arthur. Severus thought it would be rude to ignore Molly's offering of food, so despite not being at all hungry, he picked up a bit of shortbread and took a bite.

"It would present a great many difficulties to stage a heist at Gringotts," he agreed. "It would involve disguises, to be certain. Almost certainly Polyjuice Potion - which would, of course, require both time and some sample of biological material from Bellatrix Lestrange herself. There is the possible necessity of using the Imperius Curse or other less-than-savory means to manipulate Gringotts staff."

Severus neglected to mention the fact that he'd Imperiused Molly and Arthur's daughter out of necessity, the night of the fiasco at Malfoy Manor. He swallowed heavily and continued,

"Of course, the cup itself is likely cursed. When Hermione and I destroyed the locket, it tried to defend itself with cruel trickery. Goodness knows what curses have been placed on the cup."

"Then there's…" Arthur trailed off and gulped. "There are the others. The other horcruxes. The snake, Nagini. You say it never leaves his side. Harry. Destroying the horcrux within him."

Arthur was unwilling to say ' _killing Harry Potter,_ ' Severus noted. Instead he said, ' _destroying the horcrux within him_.' Even after all that had happened, after losing Ronald and after all the chaos and destruction, Arthur Weasley still wanted Harry Potter to live. Severus felt uneasy, but he chewed more of Molly's shortbread and mused,

"Perhaps we should focus on realistic goals in the interim, Arthur. For now, let us train our attentions on the cup. The first thing that needs to happen is to begin brewing Polyjuice Potion. In order to do that, I need to Transfigure my features and get to Diagon Alley to purchase several supplies. And I need to - somehow - obtain material from Bellatrix Lestrange for the potion. I will have a month in which to do that, of course, and -"

"Do you intend on making Hermione… 'become'... Bellatrix?" Molly Weasley looked horrified at that thought, and Severus pinched his lips as he considered it. He pushed his hair from his face and said carefully,

"Hermione knows, Molly, that Harry Potter and your son Ronald would want her to do whatever she could to end this madness. She and I will work together carefully to do our parts. Rest assured of that."

He took another bit of shortbread and chewed it, glancing out the window again to see Hermione standing alone on the shore. Tonks was trudging away from Hermione back toward the house. Hermione was staring out at the sea, her curls whipping around her head madly. Then she raised her hand and something small and black went hurtling away from her, landing with a little splash in the waves.

* * *

"This is insanity, Severus. Someone will recognize us."

"I assure you, Hermione, that you look absolutely nothing like yourself." Severus flicked his eyes up and flashed Hermione a bored expression as he pulled his wand over his own shoulders. His trademark black robes were transformed into a more vibrant blue, velvet concoction - something he would never normally wear.

Hermione moved to stand in front of the tarnished mirror in the small bedroom she shared with Severus at Shell Cottage. She surveyed her radically altered appearance for a moment with great skepticism. She and Severus had worked together to take just about every feature she had and reverse it, to make her look quite the opposite of herself as they prepared to venture to Diagon Alley for potion supplies.

Her wild brown curls had been changed to an icy blonde bob that fit neatly around her face. She'd been made three inches taller and her curves were shaped in an ever-so-slightly more voluptuous manner. Her nose was narrowed and lengthened, and her cheekbones raised a bit. Her cheeks and jaw were shaped differently, and her freckles had been erased. Her eyes were the same, for, as Luna had mentioned, the eyes could never be really changed. But her lips had been reshaped, and her teeth had been given different spacing and sizing.

Severus remembered with a spike of shame the way Draco Malfoy had hit Hermione with a _Densaugeo_ spell in her fourth year… the way she'd covered her mouth with shame as her teeth had grown rapidly like a beaver's. Ron Weasley had pried Hermione's fingers from her teeth and said to Severus with an indignant, red-faced huff,

"Malfoy got Hermione! Look!"

And then Severus had kept his face impassive, shrugged, and he'd said, "I see no difference."

He could still see Hermione's tears on her young, childish face after he'd been cruel in that moment. But he hadn't known her then, much less loved her. Now he stared at her transformed self and suddenly wished she wasn't a blonde bombshell with perfect teeth. He wanted her back - his frizzled-haired, slightly buck-toothed Hermione, the woman he loved for her beautiful body and soul and mind. He cleared his throat gently and reassured her,

"I very much prefer you as yourself. Nonetheless, I am quite confident that no one will recognize you."

'Hermione' gave Severus a sad little smile and said, "Shall I finish your Transfiguration for you?"

Severus felt a bit uneasy about letting her Transfigure his features. He happened to know that Hermione had never been as skilled at Human Transfiguration as she was with other areas of the subject. Minerva McGonagall had made that very clear. But he licked his bottom lip, turned to her, and said, "Go ahead."

'Hermione' cleared her throat, raised her wand, and appeared focused as she began murmuring spells.

" _Lapsos Pilos… Nigra Cutis… Spissior Nasum…."_ Severus felt his body buzzing with warmth as her wand coursed in careful movements around him. She dragged the tip of her wand over his facial features, around his skin, and Severus knew she was radically changing him. He smirked with a great degree of pride, knowing she was working hard to accomplish their goal. " _Crescendum Sicut Hoc…"_ Severus felt himself stretching upward as her wand directed the growth of his height. He grunted at the slight pain of becoming taller. Finally, the blonde-haired Hermione nodded crisply and flicked her wand toward the tarnished mirror, and Severus had a look.

His eyebrows flew up in alarm when she realized he'd become a rather handsome Black man, with long dreadlocks and features that did not at all resemble his own. He was taller and thicker than he was accustomed to being. He turned to the blonde Hermione beside him and nodded.

"Well done," he said tightly. "Let's go."

"Can't be by Floo," Hermione said, and Severus shook his head.

"No, of course not. We'll walk down the beach and do Side-Along," he said. "We're going to Mr. Mulpepper's in Knockturn Alley."

Hermione furrowed her blonde eyebrows over her porcelain skin. "Mr. Mulpepper's?" she repeated skeptically. "Why are we going to the Knockturn Alley location?"

"We can't buy all our ingredients at the same shop," Severus said, as though it were obvious. "It can't be clear we're buying the necessary ingredients for Polyjuice. We will buy little bits for what we need, as well as decoy ingredients, but we'll need to go to multiple sources. We shall need to go first to Mr. Mulpepper's in Knockturn Alley, then to the Diagon Alley shop. Then next-door to Slug and Jiggers. Finally, we'll Apparate to Hogsmeade and go to J. Pippin's… after changing our appearances again, of course."

"Yes, of course," Hermione said softly. She looked uneasy. "This all seems so dangerous, Severus…"

"That's because it _is_ dangerous," Severus conceded, "but we haven't any choice, have we?"

Hermione shook her head, and a resolute expression crossed her unrecognizable face. "Have you got the money?" she asked, and Severus held up his bag of coins. Hermione pinched her lips. "Right," she said. "Let's go."

* * *

Knockturn Alley felt bleaker than ever when Hermione landed hard on the cobblestone street with Severus. She glanced up quickly to ensure that Severus' and her own Magical disguises had been maintained through their Apparition. Severus still appeared as a hulking Black-skinned man, wearing flowing blue robes. Hermione glanced at her reflection in the dirty window of a nearby shop and saw a blonde-haired witch she did not recognize. She sighed quietly and heard Severus' low murmur say,

"Mr. Mulpepper's is just this way."

They began to stalk, Hermione with feigned confidence, through the alley. She had to swallow a bit of bile, and more than a little fear, when they passed Antonin Dolohov. He had been the man to curse her at the Department of Mysteries, but Hermione had to pretend not to recognize the Death Eater. She squeezed Severus' hand as they brushed by Dolohov, and she knew Severus was struggling, too, to keep his disguised face straight ahead. Fortunately, Dolohov kept walking, whistling a too-happy little song as he did. Hermione held her breath until she and Severus reached Mr. Mulpepper's, and then she heard Severus whisper,

"You do most of the talking here, will you?"

Hermione nodded. She knew why Severus had suggested that. Their voices were still their own, and Severus had a rather distinctive, silky tone to his voice that might be recognized in Knockturn Alley. They stepped through the door of Mr. Mulpepper's, and a magpie perched near the door squawked loudly. Hermione jumped at the sound of the bird, and then she felt profoundly uneasy when the magpie 'said,'

" _AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Her hand tightened around Severus', and she felt her heart thrum within her chest. She stepped carefully into Mr. Mulpepper's, and the old wizened proprietor of the shop came waddling out from the back storeroom at the sound of the magpie. He gave a low chuckle and said to Hermione,

"Damned bird says the last thing he heard before his last owner died. Shame, that, innit? Lucky the bird can't do anything with those words, wouldn't you say? Laertes Mulpepper at your service… how might I help you today?"

Hermione shifted upon her feet and tried to smile. It didn't work. Finally she said, "We are in need of several potions ingredients to replenish our personal supply before a holiday. Dittany, knotgrass, and cinnamon, if you please. Oh, and boomslang skin. Thank you."

She adopted a bit of an accent when she spoke to Laertes Mulpepper - something vaguely Scandinavian that she hoped made her seem foreign. The old man just nodded and disappeared back into the storeroom. As Hermione listened to the soft clinking of glass in the back room, she turned to Severus and saw his disguised form nod approvingly at her.

" _AVADA KEDAVRA!"_ the magpie in the window shrieked, and Hermione shuddered.

The trip over to Diagon Alley proved useful and uneventful. The other location of Mr. Mulpepper's provided Hermione and Severus with lacewing flies, saltpeter, re'em egg, and bicorn horn. In Slug and Jiggers, they obtained leeches and doxy egg. Left with only fluxweed (picked at the full moon) in order to complete their Polyjuice shopping list, they made their way into a dark and quiet corner of Diagon Alley and prepared to Disapparate to Hogsmeade.

Severus made a few changes to Hermione's disguise, apparently changing her hair color to a rich auburn and growing out the length a bit, as well as rounding out her face and filling out her curves. In turn, Hermione shortened Severus' dreadlocks and lightened his skin tone back to that of a Caucasian man, altering his features with a few quick flicks of her wand. He still looked nothing like Severus Snape, but his disguise from Knockturn and Diagon Alley was radically altered, too. He looked rather like an American hippie from the 1960s, Hermione thought vaguely, trying not to smirk at the thought.

"Ready?" she heard Severus' voice ask. Hermione nodded, looping her arm through Severus' and clutching tightly to her bag of purchased ingredients. She clenched her eyes shut and held her breath, and then the dark alleyway vanished from around them. She was whirling in a pinching blackness as they Disapparated, and then she landed with a hard thud and a soft crackle. She felt queasy for a brief moment, but it passed, and Hermione opened her eyes.

She glanced about to see they'd landed on a drizzly street outside Spintwitches sporting goods shop. Just down the road was J. Pippin's Potions, and Hermione felt Severus tugging her in that direction. She followed him wordlessly, trying to stay focused on their task. But she could not help glancing up to see the looming shadow of Hogwarts Castle, hovering over the glen in which Hogsmeade village was nestled. She felt her eyes burn as she looked upon the grey beast of a fortress, the school she'd called home for so long. It felt so near, and yet so out of reach now. Beside her, she felt Severus tense, and he murmured,

"I know. It is odd to be here. All we need to do is to purchase the fluxweed and go back to the cottage."

"Yes," Hermione heard herself whisper, but her altered lips felt dry, and her voice died on the chilled wind.

A merry little bell greeted them when they walked through the door of J. Pippin's Potions. It was a far better greeting than the screeching magpie in Knockturn Alley, Hermione thought distantly. She cleared her throat and waited for the plump middle-aged witch behind the counter to finish ringing up the purchase of a spindly wizard customer. When the witch behind the counter raised her eyebrows in an impatient fashion, Hermione said smoothly,

"Good afternoon. I am in need of rose oil, fluxweed harvested at the full moon, and chizpurfle fang, if you please."

The witch behind the counter stared at Hermione for a long moment - too long - and asked in a skeptical tone, "Why, may I ask, does it matter when the fluxweed was harvested?"

Hermione felt her stomach flop in her abdomen. Beside her, Severus answered, his voice strained as he tried not to sound like himself.

"All mustards heal better when harvested at the full moon, madam. I know well what you're thinking; Full Moon Fluxweed is used for Polyjuice Potion. But you will note that we've also asked for chizpurfle fang and rose oil. My paramour here is training to be a medi-witch, and these are all ingredients in Insta-Care Wound Ointment. I'm certain you know that, though, being the proprietor of such an esteemed establishment. Twenty scruples of Full Moon Fluxweed will do just fine."

The witch behind the counter looked terribly offended at the roundabout insult, but she nodded crisply and turned around to her apothecary chest. She rummaged about and began pulling out ingredients. Hermione glanced up to Severus, smirking at his disguised form and suddenly feeling very glad for his extensive potions knowledge. Finally the woman who worked in J. Pippin's turned around and pushed a rumpled paper bag across the counter. Severus opened the bag and checked the ingredients inside and nodded.

"Three galleons, five sickles," the witch said sharply, and Severus paid her. He and Hermione left the shop without another word, and Hermione could not shake the feeling that it had been a bit of a close call with the potions witch.

The street outside of J. Pippin's reflected the paranoid atmosphere they'd found inside the shop. People seemed to be scurrying about Hogsmeade with an air of urgency, keeping their eyes trained straight ahead or downward. It was obvious that the strict environment at Hogwarts had bled onto the village below. Hermione felt her stomach rumble insistently, and she realized she hadn't eaten anything at all in a great while.

"Can we pop into The Three Broomsticks and fetch a pasty or something?" she asked Severus quietly. He scowled for a moment, but finally nodded. They made their way into the Three Broomsticks, and Hermione saw Madam Rosmerta leaning heavily on the counter at the bar. She felt a pinch in her chest as she remembered all the times she'd sat in here with her friends, the times Ron had talked about how pretty Rosmerta was.

Hermione sat at a bench and waited for Severus to bring them butterbeers and pasties. She shut her eyes for a moment and breathed in deeply, taking in the smell and sound of the familiar old place. Even with all the radical changes to her life, there was something comforting about being here, she thought. There was a gentle hum in the place as people about her had conversations. At the table behind her, a young couple seemed to be discussing something urgent. Hermione tried not to listen, intent on relaxation, but there was something oddly familiar about the couple's voices.

"Here's the thing, Swiss," the young man was saying in a furtive mumble, "the book was one of them. The fang… from the… the _snake_ , you know… it was able to destroy the book because -"

"Yes, yes… I understand," the woman - ' _Swiss,_ ' he'd called her, answered. She paused for a moment, and Hermione's eyes flew open as she listened more closely. "The bird."

 _Swiss,_ Hermione thought, her heart beginning to race. 'Ginevra' was the Italian spelling for 'Geneva,' which was a major city in Switzerland. Ginevra Weasley was sitting at the table behind her with Harry Potter. Hermione tried to stay calm as she rose slowly from her bench, and she heard Ginny and Harry fall silent as she sidled up to their table.

"Good afternoon," she said, noticing that Ginny had Transfigured her features rather successfully to look South Asian. Harry was rather less convincingly transformed; his jagged jawline and mop of sandy hair were not so radically different as to seem like an entirely different person. And now that Hermione was looking down at him, his emerald eyes were unmistakable. He _had,_ though, been smart enough to cover his lightning bolt scar with a slouch cap. Hermione felt her eyes sear with unshed tears as she glanced back and forth between Harry and Ginny. She saw them both panic a bit at the sudden intrusion, and Hermione decided to skip right to it. She leaned down and said in a low hiss,

"It's me. It's Hermione. Shrieking Shack. Ten minutes."

She left them both sitting in shocked silence, and she hurried her way up to the bar to let Severus know that the pasties would be takeaway.

* * *

Severus felt his pulse racing as he and Hermione trudged up the muddy, winding pathway that led to the Shrieking Shack. Of course, there were no working doors or windows that granted admittance to the Shack from the outside, but Potter and Ginny Weasley would be waiting outside the abandoned house.

Severus could still remember the time, many years earlier, when Sirius Black had thought it very funny indeed to lure Severus into the Shrieking Shack. Severus had, admittedly, been spying on the Gryffindor boys, and Sirius Black wanted to throw Severus off their trail. But Remus Lupin was in the Shrieking Shack for his monthly lycanthropy transformation, and the night had turned into a dangerous shambles. James Potter had had to rescue Severus, and the shame of that still haunted him to the marrow of his bones.

Then there had been the time four years previously when Sirius Black had caused trouble in the Shack once again. Black had been in his Animagus form as a dog and had dragged Ronald Weasley into the Shack. Peter Pettigrew's identity had been revealed, and this time it had been Severus who had done the rescuing. He'd been simultaneously Disarmed by three young Gryffindors, and apparently Hermione had been terrified about "attacking a teacher." But Severus had told the Minister of Magic that the trio had been Confounded. He'd spared James Potter's son, in an odd twist of fate. He'd spared Ronald Weasley. And he'd spared Hermione Granger. But he'd revealed Remus Lupin's nature as a werewolf.

It was not without reason that Severus Snape greatly disliked being anywhere near the Shrieking Shack. As he and Hermione, still disguised, approached the old place, he could see two figures beneath a leafless tree in the dismal garden beside the house.

"Harry…" Hermione hissed beside Severus, and she trotted off through the mud.

It was odd to see the two figures embrace so tightly, for Severus recognized neither of them but knew them both. The sandy blond boy, he knew, was Potter, but he only very vaguely resembled the boy. The auburn-haired girl was Severus' wife. Beside the bare-twigged tree was a South Asian girl that Severus assumed must be Ginevra Weasley, and as Potter and Hermione whispered furtive greetings to one another, Severus said sharply,

"Miss Weasley, I presume?"

The young witch nodded and glanced around nervously.

"Harry, we _must_ go to Shell Cottage at once!" Hermione exclaimed. She turned to the disguised Ginny Weasley and said, "Ginny, your mum's there. Your father, Bill, Fleur, Tonks… they're all there… we can all sit down and plan, you see, and -"

"We don't want to bring danger with us, Hermione," Ginny said softly, and Harry Potter added,

"Every once in awhile, my scar burns and I see these flashes. I think… I think _he_ knows where I am in those moments, Hermione."

The auburn-haired Hermione scowled and shook her head. She flicked her eyes to Severus and said,

"I thought Severus taught you Occlumency, Harry."

"He wasn't very good at it," Severus admitted, shifting on his feet. The disguised version of Ginny Weasley frowned deeply and opened her mouth to protest, but Harry Potter admitted,

"He's right. I'm no Occlumens. I try to keep him out… during those attacks… with happy memories or even just overwhelming sensations of grief. Sometimes it works. But I'm nervous about going to Shell Cottage, Hermione. I don't want to endanger anyone else. Ginny and I have been on the run for months now, and that's probably the way it's got to be. Just tell us what you two are up to. What we can do. That's all that can be done, probably."

Hermione began explaining to Harry and Ginny that she and Severus knew about the horcruxes. She told them that they'd destroyed the locket. This seemed to make Potter feel some measure of relief, though Ginevra Weasley collapsed a bit against the tree trunk when she thought about her brother Ron having lost his life over the stupid thing.

"What did you use to destroy it?" Ginny Weasley asked meekly, and Hermione rummaged about in her Expanded bag for a moment. She finally pulled out her wyvern dagger and handed it over. Ginny coursed her disguised fingers over the blade as Hermione explained what it was, and that she'd been gifted the blade by Luna.

"Where did Luna get it, though?" Harry Potter asked with a bit of confusion.

"How the girl knew to give it to Hermione, I don't know," Severus piped up quietly. "It belonged to me, many years ago. It was stolen from me early in my teaching career by a sixth-year Ravenclaw. Caliban Lovegood - Luna's uncle."

Hermione took the wyvern dagger back from Ginny and put it back into her bag. She began to explain the other known horcruxes and how Severus had experienced _Consilio Legilimens_ with Voldemort. She showed them the potions ingredients they'd purchased to make Polyjuice and described their plan to go to Gringotts and search Bellatrix Lestrange's vault.

"How do you mean to get a sample of her hair, or whatever else, though?" Ginny asked carefully.

"I'm not certain," Hermione admitted, frowning. "We'd have to get back into Malfoy Manor somehow, probably."

Ginny pinched her disguised face and said thoughtfully, "You know, she tortured me when I was there. When I was being held captive. One time, her sister Narcissa Malfoy shouted at her to end the Cruciatus Curse. ' _You'll kill the girl, Bella, and it'll be just like the boy. All for nothing.'_ So she released the curse. And I took something from her when she released the curse... when I managed to claw at her."

She reached into the pocket of her denims and took out a dull silver pendant. It was a bird skull of some kind, hanging on a heavy silver chain. Ginny turned it over in her hand and mused,

"I'm not entirely certain why I took it. I wanted something… a trophy for my trouble, you know? For Ron."

Ginny sniffed quietly and dragged her thumb over the bird skull pendant. She continued,  
"Bellatrix didn't even seem to notice, and then before I knew it, Dobby had come and brought me to Harry. Anyway…" Ginny studied the necklace closely, and then a knowing smirk came over her face as she picked something out of the old, heavy clasp. She held a long wiry black hair up triumphantly and said, "I knew one day we'd all be glad for that woman's insane hair."

Hermione gasped and a grin crossed her disguised countenance. Severus tried to stay calm, and he quickly Conjured a glass phial to contain the hair. He snatched the sample of hair from Ginny Weasley and searched the necklace for additional hair as he heard Harry Potter and Hermione praise the youngest Weasley offspring.

"Ginny, you're bloody _brilliant!_ "

"Have you any idea how much trouble you've saved -"

"There are soldiers in all of this, and there are martyrs, and you're one of the -"

"Ginny, _you're_ _bloody brilliant!"_

Then the chaos settled down and Severus tucked the glass phial into his breast pocket and nodded crisply at Ginny. "Well done, Miss Weasley," he said, and a little smile came over the girl's face. He knew she'd never received any sort of affirmation from him as her teacher, and he wasn't about to start fawning over the girl now. But if he was truthful, she had managed to solve a rather large logistical nightmare for them all.

Then Harry Potter took the wind out of all their sails when he said, "Good luck to you both. I wish there were some way for us to stay in closer contact in all of this."

Hermione pinched her lips and looked at Severus carefully. "One of the _Oraverit?"_ she asked softly, and Severus felt his stomach sink. He knew she was right. As it stood right now, they had no way of reliably contacting Potter, of locating the boy in a time of danger. And, of course, they would _need_ to find Potter eventually, for within him dwelled a horcrux. Hermione hadn't mentioned to Potter during the discussion of horcruxes that _he_ was one of them. Severus suspected that Potter knew; the boy wasn't _that_ big an idiot.

The day would inevitably come when Hermione and Severus would need to contact Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. It had been pure luck that Hermione had overheard their conversation in the pub earlier. Severus swallowed heavily and reached beneath the collar of his robes, pulling out the iron pendant around his neck. He unclasped it and handed it to the sandy-haired boy before him.

Harry Potter took the iron pendant and studied it, coursing his fingers over the Futhark rune _laguz_ as Ginny Weasley asked from beside him,

"What is it?"

"This is an _Oraverit,_ " Hermione explained patiently. "It's something Severus created. It's enchanted with a two-way connection, rather like a Portkey that works on command in conjunction with a second _Oraverit._ It's a modified Protean Charm - yes, Ginny, the same sort of charm that linked our Dumbledore's Army coins, and the same sort that links all the Dark Marks. But this one links only this pendant and one other object."

She reached into her Expanded bag and pulled out Severus' old brass pocket-watch. She held it up for Ginny and Harry to see, and Severus finished explaining,

"The two objects are impervious to anti-Apparition charms, so they will work anywhere. If you clutch the pendant and incant, ' _Oraverit,_ ' you will be instantly transported to the pocket-watch. Hopefully, that will take you to Hermione. Now, of course, the dangerous thing is that you won't necessarily know that the pocket-watch is in a safe location at any given time… so reserve this ability for only the most desperate of times, Mr. Potter."

Severus gave the sandy-haired boy and the dark-skinned girl before him a firm scowl, feeling once again like their teacher. Potter frowned and put the pendant around his neck. He nodded and said with a degree of maturity Severus was unaccustomed to hearing from the boy,

"Thank you, Professor Snape. This invention of yours may very well save lives one day."

An odd look came over the disguised Ginny Weasley's face, though, and she asked, "Hermione, is that how you vanished from the Hospital Wing the night…" She looked up at Severus very deliberately, then back to Hermione. "The night that Professor Dumbledore was killed? You reached and grabbed something, and then you were gone. Was it…"

"Yes," Hermione nodded her auburn hair without hesitation. "I used the _Oraverit_ that night, because I knew I couldn't make anyone understand in that moment that Severus was not an enemy. He had the pendant, and I had the pocket-watch."

"What if the two of _you_ become separated?" Harry Potter asked, flicking his emerald eyes nervously between Severus and Hermione. In that moment Severus knew more firmly than ever that the boy was a true Gryffindor. Hermione pinched her lips and said bravely,

"We shall have to try very hard _not_ to become separated. It's important, Harry, that you and Ginny, as a team, have one of the _Oraverit._ Severus and I, as a team, will have the other. We're all on the side of the Light, and we must all use whatever weaponry we've got in our arsenals. Now is not the time to cling to selfish fear, is it?"

Severus looked down at her, suddenly wishing very hard that she looked like herself. He wanted to kiss her, all of a sudden, even though they were standing right in front of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. He gripped the bag of potions ingredients he held - the ingredients to disguise Hermione as Bellatrix Lestrange. As he breathed deeply, he could feel the glass phial with Bellatrix's hair in his breast pocket.

Severus cast his eyes up beyond the Shrieking Shack to the looming shadow of Hogwarts Castle, staring at it for a long moment as Hermione said farewell to Harry and Ginny, telling them to stay safe and be careful and to protect one another. Suddenly the weight of everything felt very heavy indeed upon Severus, and he took a shaking breath as he glanced back down to the disguised teenagers before him.

"Yes," he murmured softly to James Potter's son. "Do be careful, Potter."

Then he took Hermione's hand, lacing her fingers in his, and took a few steps backward. He turned hard on the spot, and he Disapparated back to Shell Cottage without another word.

* * *

The moon cast its light onto the churning sea, and the black waves scattered the moonlight into a thousand milky shards. Hermione stood on the sand and bent to pick up a smooth stone, turning it over in her hand for a moment before tossing it out into the water. The stone landed with a _plop_ , and Hermione thought back to the meeting she and Severus had had with Harry and Ginny earlier that day in Hogsmeade.

Ginny and Harry hadn't looked like themselves, except for their eyes. Even so, it had been very good to see them. It had been important to see them, Hermione thought. Remus Lupin was gone. Ron was gone. Hermione's parents were as good as dead to her. It was very important that she'd hugged Harry and Ginny today, that she and Severus had told them details of 'the plan' and had given them an _Oraverit._

All of that was very important.

So why were Hermione's eyes stubbornly burning with tears? Why could she only think of Ron, of joyous times at Hogwarts and in Hogsmeade village? Why did she feel a terrible spike of dread in her bones? Why did she want nothing more than to stand on the beach and shriek at the moon and hurl boulders into the sea and scream for Ron and Remus and her parents to come back?

Hermione swiped angrily at her face, inadvertently rubbing grains of sand into her eyes. That only made her feel more cross, and she cursed aloud as she whipped out her wand and cleaned her face with Magic and Conjured a tie to pull her hair from her face.

"The potion is brewing," said a smooth voice from behind her, "and everyone in the cottage is asleep."

Hermione did not turn around. She felt Severus sidle up beside her on the beach. His black robes whipped and snapped in the cold nighttime wind, and his low murmur was nearly drowned out by the crashing waves as he said,

"You should come inside. It's past midnight."

She shook her head and sniffed. "I'm not ready to come in yet."

"Very well," Severus said in a stiff tone. "Shall I Conjure you a sleeping bag for the beach, then?"

Hermione scowled up at him, noting the way the frosty moonlight cut across his face. "You needn't be cruel," she mumbled. She looked back out at the ocean, at the way the waves tumbled onto the pebbled shore, and she mused, "One time, when I was nine years old, my parents took me on holiday to Portugal. We went to a place called Portimão, in the south. There was a beach called Praia de Rocha, with the most beautiful white sand you could imagine. The water was this stunning jade that faded into a rich, deep blue… my father and I took a double kayak out beyond the stone cliffs, and my mother waved to us from the shore. It was warm. The air, the sea. It was warm, and sunny, and I remember it vividly. I remember _them_ vividly, Severus, but they don't remember me."

Hermione glanced up at him again to see that Severus had shut his eyes against the night, and she swallowed the knot in her throat before she finished,

"And the sea here is very cold."

She felt him lace his fingers through hers then, and his lips touched her ear as he whispered again,

"Come back up to the cottage with me, will you?"

She did, reluctantly trudging up through the sand that fought back with every step until they reached the stout little cottage. They were silent as they made their way inside - so silent, in fact, that Hermione knew Severus had nonverbally muted their steps to avoid waking the cottage's other denizens. As they crept back into the tiny bedroom they shared, Hermione flung open the tattered shutters and heard the sound of the ocean crashing, saw the moonlight come pouring into the space, and her eyes burned again.

"Come to bed, Hermione," Severus mumbled quietly. Hermione ignored him, staring out through the window for a long while. She could hear Severus undressing behind her. The old wardrobe creaked in protest when he opened the door to hang up his clothes. Finally she felt him behind her, the warm flush of his now-bare chest against her back, the comforting way his arms ensnared her, the way his chin rested atop her head. Hermione shut her eyes and listened to his words as Severus said gently,

"We have, for the time being, done everything that we can do, Hermione. I promise you that at the moment I can do more, I shall. I promise you that. I love you. I promise you that, too."

"I know." Hermione nodded and turned around. She looked up at him, and his inky black eyes were lit up by the moonlight as she studied him. He looked older than ever, worn down by the way they were running. She reached up and grazed her fingertips over his cheekbones, trying to smile at him and knowing that it came out as a grimace. She felt him carefully pull the tie from her curls, and she let him yank her jumper up over her head. She let him unclasp her bra behind her back, let his hand cup her breast and squeeze gently.

She let him lower his face to hers and press his lips against hers. And then she kissed him back, moaning quietly and realizing they had not made love in what felt like an eternity. It hadn't been so very long at all, but it felt like ages. They were one another's power source nowadays, she thought. They were, in a great many ways, all the other had anymore.

So she let him push her against the wall and yank her unzipped denims down over her hips. She let him pull her thighs up around his waist; she even helped him do that bit. And she cried out, grasping desperately for his shoulders, when Severus thrust himself into her body against the wall. The moonlight came pouring in through the window and cast them both into a pale, milky spotlight, but Hermione did not care. All she cared about was the warm licorice taste of _her Severus_. All she cared about was the way he stretched and filled her as he pushed her over and over again onto the wall.

She liked the way he growled into her mouth, the way he wrenched his lips away and hissed her name into her ear. She liked how he flopped her down onto the edge of the bed when his strength gave out. She very much enjoyed the way his fingers dug into her hips then, how he pounded and railed into her. She ignored the insistent squeaking of the small, old bed. All she could hear was Severus' quiet groaning, the way he kept whispering her name through clenched teeth.

Then she felt her walls clamping down around his manhood - erratic explosions of pleasure that were mirrored in every atom of her being. Her ears went hot and rang, her mind went blank, and she may have called out for him then. She would have had no way of knowing. He snarled and his hands clutched her hips so hard that it would have hurt if it hadn't felt so wonderful. He bucked and jerked against her a few times, and then the creaking bed went still beneath her.

Sleep came easily that night. Outside the window, the cold black sea churned, and the milky white moon rained its light down. The _Oraverit_ sat quietly on the table beside Hermione's head. And somewhere worlds away, the iron pendant, the other half of the link, rested around Harry Potter's neck. So sleep came easily to Hermione.


	3. Chapter 3

"Let's practice again, shall we?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and flopped down onto her back on the bed in the little bedroom and sighed. Even she, neurotic as she was, was growing weary of the 'practice.' But she knew that she and Severus needed to have this break-in down to a perfect science. So she sat up again and nodded at Severus as he flicked up a dark eyebrow. He nodded crisply and pretended to be a goblin working at Gringotts.

"Good afternoon," he said simply.

"Hello," Hermione clipped, tipping up her forehead. "I wish to get into my vault. Lestrange. Bellatrix Lestrange."

She crossed her arms in a haughty fashion over her chest and sniffed, and Severus looked unimpressed.

"Have you got your key, Madam Lestrange?"

"I left it at home, I'm afraid. I'm certain you have an extra," Hermione said in a very fine imitation of Bellatrix's voice. Severus frowned deeply and said,

"Madam, I regret that in these difficult times, we must ask for the wand of each witch and wizard who requests access to a vault without a key." He held out his hand smoothly. "It shall only take a moment, but -"

"You may have heard, or perhaps not, I do not know. My wand was snapped this past spring at Hogwarts by a little Mudblood girl. I do not have my own wand anymore. The one I've got was given to me as a replacement gift by the Dark Lord. You are more than welcome to contact _him_ yourself if you've got any doubt about that."

She narrowed her eyes and glared at Severus as if he were one of the goblins at Gringotts. Severus smirked back and nodded.

"The humans at the entrance will have Probity Probes," he reminded her. "I shall need to Confound them immediately upon entering, since I will be so thoroughly Disillusioned and since you will have had Polyjuice. As soon as the goblin at the counter begins a solid conversation with you, I will Imperius him. Are we _very_ clear on all of this?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "We're very clear, until we get down to the vault. Then we have no idea what's going to happen."

"No, indeed," Severus agreed. "Then we have no idea what's going to happen."

There was a soft rapping upon the door, and it creaked open to show pretty blonde Fleur Weasley standing in the doorway.

"'Ermione," she said, holding up a wad of black cloth, "I 'ave your Bellatrix deesguise 'ere. Molly and I 'ave spent all morning making sure your clothes will look just like the stupid cow, so… 'ere you go."

Fleur smiled knowingly as she walked into the room and handed Hermione the tight black bodice, flowing skirts, and over-robe that she and Molly Weasley had worked on. Hermione nodded gratefully and took the clothes.

"Thank you, Fleur," she said, and Fleur shrugged.

"Zis ees very brave of you, of course, 'Ermione," Fleur said firmly. "The last thing I would want is for the costume to be unconv… not to convince, you know? In any way, I wish you all the best luck, 'Ermione. Professor Snape."

Severus' cheeks darkened at the way Fleur addressed him, but he nodded politely. Hermione thought back to her fourth year, when Fleur had come to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons as a Triwizard Cup Champion. When Harry had competed against her after the Goblet of Fire had been tampered with, when Cedric Diggory had been killed because Voldemort had returned. That year had been less than ideal, Hermione thought… rather like this year.

She cleared her throat and tried to clear her head as she said delicately, "I think I shall change clothes now."

Fleur nodded and left the room, and Hermione's hands shook as she changed clothes. Beside her, Severus began to mumble quietly.

"There will undoubtedly be all sorts of security measures where the vaults are. There are rumors of dragons. They will have defensive enchantments. We must be prepared - either of us, at any moment - to re-employ the Imperius Curse upon whichever goblin escorts us. Or worse, Hermione."

She looked at him nervously as she buttoned up her black bodice, and she nodded despite what he meant. He meant that they might have to commit murder in a worst-case scenario. That _Hermione_ might have to kill a goblin. And she nodded.

And in that moment, Hermione knew that she'd fully given herself to the cause of destroying Voldemort - mind, body, and soul.

She watched Severus take out the glass phial with Bellatrix's hair from his breast pocket, and then he picked up the silver flask of finished Polyjuice Potion from the small table beside the bed. Hermione finished buttoning herself up and stepped over to Severus, watching as he uncorked the flask. He pulled out Bellatrix's hair and flashed Hermione a final expectant look before dropping in the hair. There was a little puff of smoke and a small hiss, and the air was filled with a foul odor for a brief moment. Severus swirled the flask about for a moment, and then he passed it to Hermione.

"Drink up, Madam Lestrange," he said quietly, and Hermione took a deep, trembling breath. She shut her eyes tightly and thought back to her second year, when she'd meant to become Millicent Bulstrode after stealing ingredients from Severus' stores. Instead she'd become mostly-a-cat while Harry and Ron went gallivanting off into the Slytherin Common Room. Hermione almost smiled at the memory, so far removed from it all.

She tipped the flask of Polyjuice Potion against her lips and pinched her nose, gagging and spluttering against the awful taste. She forced it down, three mouthfuls in a row, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears that formed there. She coughed and shook her head a few times as she tossed the flask down on the covers of the bed, and she heard Severus ask,

"Is hers quite putrid?"

Hermione swiped her wrist over her lips and nodded. "Like the most rotten gurdyroot you can imagine," she said. Then she felt her face contorting and stretching, felt her limbs and skin going taught and relaxing, felt her insides vibrating. She knew she was taking on the appearance of Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione waited for the long moment the transformation would take to complete, keeping her eyes locked on Severus'. He stayed oddly calm, for he knew in theory what to expect.

But a flash of black horror crossed his eyes once Hermione went still, once she looked like _her_. And then Severus cleared his throat quietly and said,

"Right. Let's get this over with, shall we?"

* * *

Severus hadn't been entirely certain what to imagine below the grounds of Gringotts Bank. He had never been wealthy enough to necessitate ownership of a full vault. He'd always had an account with Gringotts, of course, but his banking had always taken place above ground, with a goblin teller. So he'd never had the pleasure of riding in the carts that twisted and whirled madly into the bowels of the earth.

Today, he and Hermione had quite easily manipulated their way into the graces of a goblin called Bogrod. The old goblin had seemed quite skeptical of 'Bellatrix,' what with her lack of key and lack of wand. But a solid Imperius Curse had set the poor teller straight to rights. 'Bellatrix' and an expertly Disillusioned Severus had then joined Bogrod for an exhilarating ride down to the Lestrange vault in a cart.

Now Severus removed his Disillusionment, knowing that he and Hermione needed to be able to see one another in order to work properly through the charms on the horcrux. He reached for his hip and felt the wyvern dagger there, the one that Luna Lovegood's uncle Caliban had stolen from him so many years earlier. Absently, Severus wondered what had compelled Luna to gift the dagger to Hermione, but he had no time to think deeply on the matter now.

He strengthened his Imperius Curse over the goblin Bogrod, who sucked in air and grinned as they whirred and twisted over miniature train tracks. Severus felt his ears pop as they quickly descended. The lantern at the front of the cart sent shadows flickering around them, but they were moving far too quickly to make much out. Beside him, Severus felt Hermione shivering in the cold wind. She clutched anxiously at the material of Severus' jacket, but he could not bring himself to look at her. Not when she looked just like Bellatrix.

In the flickering light of the lantern, Severus could see a towering waterfall approaching. He could hear no roar of water, though, and suddenly he realized that it was anything but a waterfall before them. It must be one of the protective enchantments, he thought quickly. His heart pounded and his mind raced as he held up his wand and prepared. Hermione (as Bellatrix) did the same beside him, and on instinct they both cast powerful nonverbal Shield Charms toward the apparent waterfall to redirect its stream around the cart as they hurtled beneath it.

"What would it do?" Hermione mumbled, and Severus admitted over the howl of the wind,

"I don't care to find out." He grunted in pain as his ribs were roughly shoved against the side of the cart. It jolted and he saw the goblin Bogrod struggling with the controls. The cart slowed, but the next turn was so rough that the cart yanked hard to the right. Hermione shrieked, and Severus felt himself tumbling end over end. He tightened his grip on his wand, terrified to lose it, and ignored the way his neck and joints crashed painfully against the rocky ground. He righted himself as quickly as possible and looked around the dark chamber to find Hermione.

She lay in a messy heap on a boulder, clamoring to stand, and he reached to help her up. She had blood running down her face - _her_ face, from which the Magical effects of the Polyjuice seemed to have disappeared - and Severus whirled and jabbed his wand toward Bogrod. The light of horrified realization instantly left Bogrod's pale eyes as Severus said firmly,

" _Imperio._ "

The little puff of green magic came out from the tip of Severus' wand again, and the familiar look of contentment came over Bogrod's face.

"Right this way," he said, picking up the cowbell-like instrument he'd brought with him and turning to walk toward the Lestrange vault. Severus gripped Hermione's elbow and helped her up onto the side of the path, nonverbally healing up the laceration on her face.

"Thank you," she murmured, and Severus nodded silently. He checked to ensure that he still had the wyvern dagger at his hip, for all of this would be useless if they couldn't destroy the cup once they found it.

There was a low rumbling sound then, and a sort of growl, and Hermione froze where she stood. Severus felt his heart hammer, and he demanded of the goblin before them,

"Where is the dragon?"

"It guards the vault," Bogrod said simply.

"Subdue it and get us safely into the Lestrange vault," Severus demanded, feeling dizzy from the weight of controlling the goblin with his Imperius Curse. Sometimes, the connection of an Imperius Curse was too weak to allow good control. Not this time. This time, Severus had utter authority over another's mind, and it was almost stifling. He said again, "Get us into the Lestrange vault safely. Now."

"Of course, sir," Bogrod said. He dashed forward and began shaking the cowbell-like metal device he held in his hand. Hermione furrowed her brow beside Severus, but her confusion dissolved when they both stepped into an open atrium and saw the hulking, milky-eyed dragon that Bogrod was charming into submission.

The dragon retreated into the shadows, making pitiful little growling sounds as it did. It dragged heavy, ancient-looking chains with it, and Hermione whispered,

"They've got it trained to fear that thing he's holding, haven't they?"

"Would you rather the dragon destroy us both?" Severus huffed, frowning at her. Really. Sometimes, he thought, her soul was very beautiful. Sometimes it was rather foolish. Hermione pinched her lips and they followed Bogrod to a heavy iron door when he beckoned. He jabbed a set of keys into a set of locks, and he said,

"Search quickly, the two of you. And be cautious."

"Tell me what enchantments guard this vault," Severus ordered. He looked Bogrod straight in the eyes, and for the briefest moment he sensed hesitation from the goblin. Severus swirled all his magic up from his solar plexus and hurtled it at the goblin. It was a furious, angry ball of controlling fury, and he growled again, "Tell me what enchantments guard this vault."

"If you touch anything in the vault - anything at all - it will multiply over and again. However, all the copies are entirely useless to you," Bogrod said in a dull mumble. His eyes went glassy, and he continued, "There is a Flagrante Curse, too. The things that multiply will burn your flesh. Be cautious."

He gestured for Severus and Hermione to enter the vault. They did, and Severus heard Hermione murmur,

" _Lumos._ " Then Severus could see that the chamber was piled high with all manner of bric-a-brac. It would be nearly impossible not to contact any of it.

"Stand perfectly still," he commanded Hermione roughly as the vault door shut behind them. She obeyed him, and he could practically see her mind whirring through the steps of what they would need to do. Severus, meanwhile, searched the full stacks and shelves for the golden cup.

" _Accio_ Hufflepuff cup. _Accio_ golden cup." Nothing, though Severus wasn't expecting anything.

It was a nearly impossible task to find one specific item without touching anything. There were mountains coins everywhere, armor and a massive candelabra and multiple vases and shelves full of jewelry and golden plates and… and a cup. A golden cup.

"There it is," Severus whispered, holding his arm up carefully. The little golden cup had twin handles upon it, and Severus knew - he just _knew_ \- it was what they sought. As he took one careful step closer and saw the engraved badger on the cup, he had no doubt. Hermione gasped quietly beside him and said,

"The handles, Severus. Bogrod said not to touch anything. Do you suppose if we Conjured a… a hook of some kind and reached very, _very_ carefully…"

"'Carefully' will be the operative word," Severus nodded. He rubbed his scruffy chin thoughtfully and sighed. He thought hard through the logistics for a moment, staring up at the high shelf. "Right," he said finally, turning to Hermione. "Conjure me a long, hooked piece of wood. Wood does not transfer heat the way something like glass or metal would. I'm not entirely certain how their defensive enchantments work, but wood -"

"Is a much safer material," Hermione agreed. She nodded and cleared her throat as she raised her wand. Severus stalked around the small empty space in the vault, trying to decide whether it was smarter for him to levitate her to fetch the item, or the other way round. Before he could decide, he heard her say,

"Here it is."

He turned to see her holding a crowbar-like piece of wood. It was perhaps a meter long, and she'd even been intelligent enough to put grooves in the shaft of her tool so that when they fetched the cup, it wouldn't slide all the way down to their hands and set off the alarms. Severus smirked and said in his 'teacher' voice,

"Very well done. You hold it and stand just there. I'm going to levitate you. Pull it down and dangle it _very_ carefully. Then come and set it here in the middle of the floor."

A very resolute expression came over Hermione's face, and Severus could not help thinking despite the dire situation that she was very pretty. She was beautiful perhaps _because_ she was so very able, he thought. She was beautiful because of who she was. He loved her dearly for that.

She turned over her shoulder and flashed him an expectant look, cocking an eyebrow at him. Severus remembered where they were, and he cleared his throat roughly. He pulled up his wand and thought carefully, ' _Wingardium Leviosa.'_ He performed the characteristic swish-and-flick motion with his wand, and Hermione's body lifted off the ground in response. As Severus dragged the tip of his wand upward, Hermione pulled her knees up so that her body was a compact little ball.

 _Wise yet again,_ Severus thought. He pulled her levitated form toward the shelf and she reached out the long wooden hook she'd Conjured, along with her illuminated wand. The shadowy vault crackled with energy, for there was so much magic within the small space that the air felt alive. Severus' heart thrummed within his chest and his ears felt hot as he concentrated on his task, on edging Hermione closer and closer to the glimmering golden cup. Her eyes stayed trained on their prize, even as a low dragon roar made its way through the thick stone door of the vault. Severus, too, ignored the ominous sound.

Finally, Hermione was near enough to reach out and touch the tip of her hooked wooden tool to the handle of the golden cup. Severus held his breath, his black wand trembling where he held it out to control Hermione's levitated body. She pulled the cup off the shelf and it quivered in the air as if to protest being moved, but it did not multiply. Severus huffed out air anxiously and took his time moving Hermione and the cup back to the little patch of open space in the center of the vault. Once he'd lowered Hermione to the tattered old rug before him, she scampered back away from the cup, leaving it on the ground and dropping her wooden hook.

She pointed her wand at the cup, her hand shaking, as Severus reached for his hip and pulled out the pearlescent wyvern dagger. He glanced down at it for a moment and said firmly,

"I will do it, and then we will run. Are you ready?"

"Yes," she whispered beside him. Severus spared one last glance up to her face, spending five seconds studying the way the ghostly light from her wand glowed on her skin. He looked at her eyes, at her nose and mouth, and he said quietly,

"I love you, Hermione."

Then he pulled the wyvern dagger up and let it hover near his right shoulder for a moment. He aimed the gleaming tip carefully at the quivering golden cup, and he thrust it straight downward. The moment the blade hit the cup, it sliced straight into the metal as though the cup were made of butter. The dagger went hot in Severus' hand and he struggled not to release it, instead pulling it up again and stabbing once more.

There was an awful shriek as though a thousand banshees had been loosed from the metal as the cup split into several pieces. There was a terrifying tremble as the ground of the vault became angry, and Hermione shouted,

"It's a Temblor Curse! Hurry, Severus! Stab it again before the ground swallows us up! We have to run!"

Severus yanked the wyvern dagger from the screaming cup, feeling a heavy sense of dread wash over him as the piercing shrieks were joined by the distinct sound of Voldemort's voice shouting curses in a faraway scream. Once more Severus stabbed, and the cup began to bubble and steam, and the destroyed horcrux began melting into the floor. The vault shook harder than ever, and trinkets began to fall from the shelves.

The heavy stone door creaked open, and in the threshold stood a very angry-looking goblin that was not the Imperiused Bogrod. Severus, feeling shocked, raised his wand, fully prepared to kill the creature. The angry goblin raised his own hand, and distantly Severus wondered who would strike first.

But then he felt the tight grip of Hermione's hand at his elbow, heard her voice scream out, " _ORAVERIT!"_ and the vault was gone. Gringotts was gone. He was whirling, pinching, tumbling in a cold black nothing.

* * *

The bright shock of sunlight when they landed made Hermione blink a few times. The transition from the rumbling and shrieking to abject silence was jolting, too. And there was something decidedly _Muggle_ about where they'd landed; Hermione could almost feel the lack of magic about her.

But by far the most terrifying thing about where they'd been transported was what was happening between the two people in front of her. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were in a hotel bed, fully engaged in sexual intercourse.

"Fucking _hell_ , Hermione!" Harry shouted, going instantly red-faced as he pulled himself off of (and out of, Hermione thought with disgust) Ginny Weasley. He pulled a pillow in front of himself and tossed the blankets in front of Ginny, who looked as though she would die of shame. Hermione flicked her eyes over to see that Severus had rushed to disappear into a corner upon their landing, looking quite as though he were going to vomit.

"I'm… oh, goodness… I'm so sorry, Harry. Ginny. It's just that we were, we were destroying the cup. The horcrux. We were at Gringotts, and we - we had no time to warn - we were in grave danger, and - I'm sorry, it's just that we -" Hermione struggled through her apology and staggered around the tiny hotel room, nearly knocking over the bedside table as she made her way away from the bed.

Ginny coursed her fingers through her ginger hair and swore under her breath, saying gruffly,

"There's a bathroom just through that door, _Professor_ , if you don't mind waiting in there and giving us a minute to dress."

Severus said nothing in response to that, keeping his eyes lowered as he vanished through the door Ginny had referenced and slammed it closed. Hermione might have laughed at the sight at another time, but now everything felt different. Instead, she tried to joke to Ginny as she glared out a window,

"You're lucky he didn't take try to take thirty points from Gryffindor and give you each six weeks' detention with Filch."

"Oh, _ha-ha_ ," Ginny huffed as Harry yanked on his denims, facing away from the both of them. He tossed Ginny's clothes onto the bed, and Ginny dressed as Hermione stared down at the street below.

"I'm sorry that we've appeared out of nowhere," she said again, more quietly this time, knowing that her friends were embarrassed. They had no need to be, and if Hermione was honest with herself she was happy that the two of them had found some semblance of respite in all the madness of the world.

She could see that they were in some sort of cheap Muggle hotel somewhere in Croydon in London. That much was obvious because she could see the old red brick clock tower. She sniffed quietly and fingered the lace curtains as Harry asked from behind her,

"You said you were off destroying a horcrux? So that explains my searing headache fifteen minutes ago. That's what made me want to -"

"May I turn around?" Hermione asked in a clip, and she got a gruff affirmation, so she did. Harry and Ginny sat looking rumpled on the edge of the mattress. "Come on out, Severus!" Hermione called. Severus came out from the tiny bathroom looking as though someone had served him dung soup. He sank into the lumpy armchair by the outdated brass lamp, drumming his fingers as he said crisply,

"The cup is destroyed."

Ginny, still red-faced with humiliation, lit up a bit as she breathed, "How?"

Hermione and Severus took turns explaining just how they'd broken into Gringotts and why it was they'd needed to escape so quickly. At the end of the explanation, Severus was pacing with his hands knitting behind his back, Hermione was pink-cheeked and breathless, and Harry and Ginny were wide-eyed as they held hands on the bed.

"So what comes next?" Harry asked, gulping heavily.

"What do you mean, Potter?" Severus demanded. "We intruded on a rather… indelicate… moment for the two of you. I should think we ought to leave and regroup a later moment to discuss such -"

"No. You know what I mean. There's the snake. The diadem. And there's me."

Hermione felt her stomach sink. So Harry _did_ know. And he probably knew full well that he had to die. She looked up to where Severus was pacing, and she watched him stop. A strange look crossed his black eyes as he stared at James Potter's son - at Lily's son - for a moment, and then he said softly,

"The diadem would be next, ideally. In the Dark Lord's mind, it was in a forest, but I suppose that is only where he had to go to fetch it. We will have to find it ourselves."

"And how are we meant to do that?" Ginny demanded, squeezing Harry's hand more tightly.

"You two have already expressed a great discomfort with too much proximity to the Order, or with too much participation in any of this, owing to Potter's occasional mental connections with the Dark Lord," Severus reminded them. "It is certainly good that the _Oraverit_ connection existed, for the purposes of escaping today. But the diadem will not be your task, Potter. You two stay here in London, or run off wherever you will. It is not my business anymore what you… _do_ … on your own time."

He curled up his lip, and Ginny and Hermione suppressed little smiles. But Severus and Harry nodded at one another, and Severus held out his hand for Hermione to take. Before she did, she gave little hugs to Harry and Ginny, holding back a bit when she thought of what they'd been doing just a few minutes earlier. She smiled at them and said,

"Keep yourselves safe. We'll speak to you again soon, somehow. Once the diadem's destroyed."

Ginny and Harry nodded, and Hermione took Severus' hand as they rather awkwardly left the hotel room. They made their way down three flights of stairs and out into the streets of Croydon, with Hermione feeling as though she'd been plucked from one odd reality and dropped into an even stranger one. She pulled Severus into a dark alleyway and whispered,

"We need to Transfigure our clothes. We couldn't look less Muggle right now if we wanted to. We look like freaks going to a Marilyn Manson concert, or -"

He shocked her by catching her mouth in a kiss and pushing her against the brick wall, and Hermione squealed. She hurried to glance out into the sunny street, straining to make sure no one was watching them. No one was. Severus panted a bit as he glared down at her, and he hurriedly changed Hermione's 'Bellatrix' robes into a tank top, a hooded zipper sweatshirt, a pair of denims, and a pair of sneakers. On himself he put a burgundy jumper and a pair of black trousers. Then he started kissing Hermione again, and she whimpered against his mouth.

"What the devil's come over you?" she demanded softly, pressing his chest away from her. But she knew, of course. She didn't really have to ask. He answered anyway, licking his bottom lip as he pushed her wild hair from her face.

"You are a brilliant witch," he said in a hoarse voice. "Without you, the locket would not have been destroyed. Without you, the cup would not have been destroyed. I will not be able to destroy the diadem without you. You are _everything_ , Hermione, to me and to the cause of destroying the evil that permeates the world now. You are… you understand, don't you? Of course you do."

It was not at all what she had expected him to say. She had thought he'd merely been jealous of the way Ginny and Harry had been going at one another when they'd appeared in the hotel room. But as he crushed her mouth with his again, Hermione felt her eyes burn with tears, and she found herself kissing him back. She found she did not care whether anyone was watching. And when she heard someone say, ' _Get a room!'_ from the bright street, she pulled away and watched him go scarlet with embarrassment, and she laughed.

* * *

"What can I get for you?" The bored-looking teenaged girl chomped her gum rather obnoxiously and pulled her worn little notepad from the back pocket of her trousers. She smacked her chewing gum and flicked her bottle-blonde hair at Hermione.

"Erm… cheese and tomato toastie, please. Thank you." Hermione passed over her menu to the disgruntled teenager, who turned to Severus with a sigh as she scribbled down Hermione's order. Hermione glanced out the window of the Shepherd's Bush café as she heard Severus say,

"The salmon and egg salad."

"I'll have that out straight away." The Muggle girl finished scratching down the order, and then she huffed off to another table, smacking away at her chewing gum.

Hermione sighed lightly and watched Severus sip at his black coffee. The sun outside felt nearly blinding after so much time spent on the grey seashore at Shell Cottage, Hermione thought. The sunshine betrayed the chill in the air, she knew. It was long past Christmas now, and there was very little chill left in Hermione's soul.

There was, however, the scratching sound of Judy Garland over the café's sound system. It seemed the restaurant had not yet adjusted their soundtrack to the season. Hermione recognized the song from a very old Muggle film she had watched a few times with her mother growing up, and her eyes burned at the memory of that. She shut her eyes and listened to the song.

' _Through the years we all will be together if the Fates allow. Hang a shining star upon the highest bough and have yourself a merry little Christmas now…_ '

"Hermione."

Her eyes flew open and she willed away the tears as Severus said in a serious tone, "I believe it would behoove us to start making a list of places the Dark Lord might have hidden the diadem. Then we can talk through that list and eliminate nonsensical places, start thinking through -"

"Yes, of course." Hermione nodded quickly and sniffed, and Severus looked confused as he furrowed his brow and asked,

"Are you quite alright?"

Hermione nodded again and lied in a squeaky tone, "Yes. I'm fine."

Severus did not look convinced. They had checked into a cheap guesthouse in Shepherd's Bush a few hours after landing in the middle of Harry and Ginny's love scene unannounced. Hermione had showered in the shabby bathroom and changed her clothes with supplies from her Expanded bag (which she had been _very_ glad to have brought from the cottage). Severus had suggested they stay a while in London until they could sort out a plan for the diadem, and Hermione had agreed. They'd prepaid a week in the guesthouse, and then they'd made their way to the café in the street below.

Hermione was still rather in shock about the ridiculous day. She'd taken Polyjuice Potion and had 'become' Bellatrix Lestrange - the woman who had killed not only Sirius Black and others, but most importantly Ron Weasley. She had helped Severus break into Gringotts, where they'd destroyed a vessel for the soul of the most powerful Dark wizard of all time. She'd snatched his pocket-watch from her bag and transported them to Harry and Ginny, interrupting a pornographic moment in time before realizing just how grateful she was for Severus' ingenious invention.

Now she sat in a café listening to a song that made her think of her mother. The woman who had carried her for nine months, who had taught her to walk and read and had cared for her when she'd been ill. The woman who now lived a half a world away and had no idea that Hermione had ever existed.

Was Hermione alright? No, she decided. She was not alright. She let herself cry all of a sudden, in a way she very rarely allowed herself to do. She flung her face down onto her forearms and let the ugly tears leak forth from her eyes, feeling her back heave with sobs as Severus hissed,

"Hermione, I can appreciate your torment. Really, I can. But the entire restaurant is staring, and -"

"I do not give a damn who is staring," Hermione promised him, her voice muffled by the sleeves of her sweatshirt. She felt warm with anger, and then the teenaged waitress' voice said in an awkward tone above her,

"Miss… I've got your toastie."

Hermione pulled herself slowly upward, swiping snot and tears from her face ungracefully and knowing her skin and eyes were red and blotchy. She did not care. "Thank you," she sniffed to the bewildered girl.

The waitress looked for a moment at Severus, giving him a skeptical stare. Hermione could scarcely blame the girl; Severus looked a full twenty years older than Hermione and she sat opposite the little table from him in tears. The waitress put Severus' salmon and egg salad on the table in front of him, and he pursed his lips and muttered a brusque thank-you to her.

"Anythin' else?" the girl asked. She turned to Hermione and added deliberately, "Miss?"

Hermione felt very grateful for the Muggle waitress just then. She wanted to be the girl's friend, even though they probably had precisely nothing in common. Hermione shook her head pitifully and whispered, "No, thank you."

"Right. You pay up front when you've finished," the girl said, plopping a bill down on the table and stalking away.

Hermione picked up her sandwich and stared at it for a long moment before taking a bite. As she chewed, she saw that Severus' expression had softened and that he'd pulled his knuckles up to his lips thoughtfully.

"You need to rest," he said at last. He picked up his fork and took a bite of salmon, and Hermione answered,

"I'll take Dreamless Sleep tonight."

"That is not what I mean," Severus insisted, shaking his head firmly. He gulped down coffee and set his fork down. He dabbed delicately at his lips with his napkin and seemed to think for a while about what to say. At last he said, "You have rather a habit, Hermione, of pushing yourself very hard indeed. You begin to fray, but you don't notice it. It's like a rope; it will hold through the fraying, but then it snaps. You've always been that way."

"Have I?" Hermione asked in a defensive tone, though of course she knew she had been. She pushed hair from her face and watched Severus smirk at her. He nodded once and said,

"In your fourth year, my Potions final exam was scheduled for two days before the Yule Ball. Everyone in the castle was so excited for the damned party that they all forgot school was in session. Nobody revised for my exam, or for anyone else's, for that matter. Minerva McGonagall gave the lowest average marks that term that she'd given in her teacher career to that point."

Hermione felt the corners of her mouth turn up in spite of herself. She knew where Severus was going with all of this. She took a bite of her toastie, trying to remember what it had been like to be more worried about the Yule Ball than about dying.

"Nobody cared about the exams," Severus said again, "Except for you. But you gave too much of yourself to school, and I noticed even then, Hermione." His brow wrinkled as he seemed to concentrate on the memory. "The other girls came into my classroom chattering about what dresses they were going to wear to the ball, about what shoes they had. About the rumor that the Weird Sisters were going to play. But you came in with black circles beneath your eyes, twitching from lack of sleep, your hair a frizzled mess about your head, a stack of ten books in your arms."

Hermione stifled a giggle at the thought of herself looking that way in front of Severus. He'd married her two years later in spite of herself, she thought. He shook his head and carried on,

"I remember thinking to myself, ' _This girl is going to go mad. She's going to snap.'_ And you did, once or twice, properly lose your temper with your poor hapless male friends. And your answers on my written final exam were so beyond what I'd asked that they were nearly burdensome to read."

Hermione laughed aloud at that. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"You're not," Severus said in a surprisingly warm tone. "You're not sorry that you know more about unicorn blood than Newt Scamander. You're not sorry that you were able to write sixteen uses for murtlap tentacles besides murtlap essence… even though I'd only asked for three uses."

Hermione grinned and shrugged. "What's your point?"

"You need to rest," Severus said again, more firmly this time. He reached across the table and took Hermione's hand in his. She shut her eyes and felt rather dizzy as he said in a soothing voice, "You've done quite a lot, as you always do. But I am telling you that you need to rest, for you _never_ know that yourself. We will take a few days to recuperate, and then we will discuss the diadem."

But Hermione shook her head firmly and opened her eyes. "There is no time to waste," she insisted.

Severus pinched his lips, adopted his 'teacher voice,' and scolded her, "You are of no use to _anyone_ if Judy Garland drives you to tears, Ms. Granger. Until you've rested properly and cleared your head, we will not speak of our tasks. Understood?"

She nodded at last and picked up her toastie. "Understood."

* * *

Severus lay in the lumpy bed of the guesthouse and stared at the ceiling, feeling Hermione's breath on his chest as he tried to think of where Voldemort would have hidden the diadem.

It could still be in the forest, of course. In the Dark Lord's mind, that had been the word that Helena Ravenclaw's ghost had been saying. _Forest. Forest in Albania._ But Severus had a nagging sensation that the memory was old, that the Dark Lord had long ago fetched the diadem from that hiding place. It was somewhere else now.

Helena Ravenclaw. She was the daughter of none other than Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the Founders of Hogwarts. Helena now roamed the school's halls as a ghost called the Grey Lady, since her life had ended under less-than-auspicious circumstances. From what Severus understood, Helena had been pursued by a Baron in Slytherin House. When Helena had run off with her mother's powerful diadem, the Baron had been sent by Rowena to fetch the girl. Helena had refused to come back, and the Baron had murdered Helena and himself in a fit of jealous rage. They both served as House Ghosts at Hogwarts now.

"Hermione," Severus mumbled, and she stirred on his chest. She pushed herself up a bit, and Severus grunted at the awkward way she pushed on his ribs. Once she settled onto the mattress beside him, she asked in a sleepy voice,

"Whassamatter?"

"May I assume you've read _Hogwarts, A History_ cover-to-cover more than once?" Severus asked, and Hermione abruptly looked more awake. He knew he'd told her just this afternoon that there would be no talk of any of this. He was not doing well with that vow.

"Of course I've read _Hogwarts, A History,_ " Hermione huffed, yawning and sitting up straight. "I've read it at least seven or eight times all the way through. Why?"

"Where did Helena Ravenclaw take the diadem?" Severus asked carefully.

"Albania," Hermione said at once. "To a forest in Albania."

Severus shut his eyes and said, "The memory I saw in his head. It was old. Very old; I could feel it. He was young. He was… _Riddle_. He was asking Helena where it was, where the diadem was, and she sent him to the forest in Albania."

"Well, I reckon it was probably there for a thousand years, then," Hermione posited. "You think he made the horcrux out of it that long ago? What, forty, fifty years ago?"

Severus nodded against his pillow and opened his eyes. "But where would he hide it?"

Hermione looked thoughtful. "He wouldn't move it over and over again. He would have made it, put it somewhere, and it would probably still be there. Don't you think?"

"Probably," Severus agreed. "Somewhere very safe."

"What was he doing back then?" Hermione asked. She knew Severus would have some semblance of background knowledge for Voldemort, and of course he did know the man's biography better than most. Severus sighed heavily and shrugged.

"In the memory, he felt spry. Young… still a student."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "Harry told me that he grew up in an orphanage and that he wanted to teach at the school. Dumbledore told him so. Hogwarts was the only home Tom Riddle ever really had, especially at that age." She narrowed her eyes and mused, "I think if it was that long ago, he'd have hidden it somewhere at the school. And there's only one place I can think of that's safe enough. The only question is whether or not Tom Riddle knew about it."

Severus cocked an eyebrow at her. "And what place is that?"

Hermione leaned down and pushed a few strands of Severus' black hair from his face as she teased him, "Oh… is there something about Hogwarts I know that you don't? You've only lived there for twenty years of your life…"

"I woke you up to ask your advice on this; I wouldn't have done so if I knew it all," Severus growled, suddenly grasping Hermione's shoulders and pushing her down onto the mattress. She squealed and giggled as Severus demanded again, "What place are you referencing?"

"The Room of Requirement," Hermione said breathlessly as Severus moved atop her. He froze. He'd never heard of such a thing, and Hermione had been right; he'd been at the school for decades. He climbed off of Hermione and propped himself up beside her.

"What is the Room of Requirement?" he demanded, and she huffed in frustration as she pawed at his bare chest for a moment. He ignored her and glared. Hermione finally said,

"It is a secret room in the seventh floor corridor. Harry first found out about it from Dobby the House-Elf. It only appears when a person has very great need of it. I believe the room is sentient to some degree; it seems to sense what purpose the need is that is being fulfilled, and the room shapes itself to the appropriate size and shape and fills itself accordingly. We used it for D.A. meetings fifth year. Neville and some others went in there last year to escape the Carrows. And I think it would make a very good hiding place. But, as I said, there's no way to know whether Tom Riddle had any knowledge of -"

"Why the devil haven't you told me any of this before?" Severus asked quickly, his hands flying to Hermione's shoulders on instinct. She flinched under his touch and he tried to release her, but his hands only tightened on her skin. He knew his face was harsh, but she said quietly,

"You were using Veritaserum our fifth year - on Umbridge's orders, I know - to get information out of Dumbledore's Army students. I was disinclined to tell you about it then, and to be honest it didn't seem important until now."

Severus released her and swallowed heavily. He watched Hermione rub at her shoulders and he distantly wondered whether he'd hurt her. Then he mumbled,

"If there was ever someone who would know of such a room, it would be _him_. We shall need to contact the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw, somehow."

Hermione pinched her lips and said, "The portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black. One hangs in Grimmauld Place, and you and I could go there. His other portrait is in the Headmaster's Office, and we know that the Castle is still loyal to you since the Carrows can't get admitted to the office. Professor McGonagall told me so. Phineas Nigellus could go between his portraits and work with the other paintings to get a message to the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw, don't you think? To ask her whether or not that's where the diadem is? Then we would at least know whether it was worth risking a trip into the school?"

"Or we would know whether we could send Minerva," Severus nodded, feeling his lips curl up. "You're right. We'll work with the portraits to get information from the Grey Lady. Once we've confirmed that the diadem is at Hogwarts, we shall send word to Minerva McGonagall on how to access the Room of Requirement and how to obtain the diadem."

Hermione smiled broadly and pushed her wild curls from her face where she lay. "I thought you said this afternoon that there was to be no talk of this until I was thoroughly rested. And yet, you've awakened me from my slumber."

"I'm sorry," Severus whispered. He bent to kiss her neck, and Hermione arched her back up and held fast to his shoulders. She gasped quietly as Severus kissed her neck more deeply and whispered again, "I'm sorry for waking you…"

"Don't be." Hermione yanked at her thin camisole and pulled it over her head, baring her round little breasts to Severus. He groaned as he wrapped his hand around one and took the other in his mouth. She tasted clean and felt soft, and Severus felt himself go hard at once in his pyjama trousers. He felt a desire to taste her, for some reason, and he slid down against her body. He took her flannel shorts and underwear with him, pulling them over her hips and urging her to wriggle out of them.

Severus spent a long moment simply studying her - the way her waist curved gently into her hips, the way her womanhood lay nestled between her slim thighs, the way her pearlescent entrance already glistened with moisture. He reached out and dragged his fingertips up the inside of her thigh, watching her shiver and pull her ribs up off the mattress. Her hands grasped at the sheets when he teased her clit with his fingers, and she moaned his name a few times when he rubbed her with his thumb.

"The reason I wanted you well-rested, Ms. Granger, was so that you could adequately contribute to the thought process of finding the diadem," Severus said in a stern tone. He hooked a finger inside Hermione and massaged her firmly with his thumb. She gasped and her hands tightened on the sheets. He smirked and continued, "Despite your overexertion and exhaustion, you have proven yourself to be, yet again, a most valuable asset to our cause. Perhaps _the most_ valuable asset. Never let it be said that Ms. Hermione Granger let a lack of sleep get in her way of accomplishing a goal."

He lowered his face to where his thumb was and replaced his hand with his mouth. She yelped when he began dragging his tongue over her clit with long, smooth motions. She writhed and twisted on the mattress, but Severus persevered in his steady, slow, strong motions. He grasped at her waist and pulled her hard onto his mouth, and she cried out so that he knew she was close to finishing. He yanked his mouth away from her, ruining her orgasm.

" _Fucking hell_ , Severus…" Hermione said angrily, grasping her own hair in frustration as she pulled herself up onto her elbows.

Severus gave a low chuckle from the back of his throat. "Do you want to come?" he asked, and she scowled as she exclaimed,

"Of course I do!" She reached for his head and tried to push him back between her legs, but Severus smiled crookedly again and said,

"Ask me nicely."

Hermione's cheeks went pink and she said indignantly, "I am quite capable of making _myself_ come, you know."

Severus shook his head and sat up. "Do you remember, you wicked little girl, the spell you cast upon me during our wandless magic lessons? The day I first kissed you. I couldn't help myself; not after what you did to me with your little torture. It was a very pleasurable little curse. What was it again?"

Hermione's eyes went wide with a mix of thrill and terror, and she half-smiled as she shook her head. "Severus, don't you dare -"

" _Interminagaudens."_

He touched his hand to the outside of her womanhood, and his wandless spell hit her at once. Hermione was instantly racked with the blissful agony of an intense and ongoing orgasm. She was utterly incapacitated, lying on her back as her toes curled and her hands reached aimlessly for something to hold. Severus watched for a moment in fascination, his playful dominance dissolving as he took in the sight of her. Her nipples were taut and dark pink; her skin was flushed and shining. Her face was contorted in an expression halfway between agony and ecstasy.

On instinct, Severus yanked off his pyjama trousers and clutched his solid member in his hand. He slithered atop Hermione's squirming, climaxing form and pushed his tip against her.

"Can I -" he began, and she cried out breathlessly,

"Yes! Yes, do it!"

Severus did not need to be asked twice. He hurtled himself into her in one thrust, feeling the slick, welcoming embrace of her body. Then he felt the way she was continuously clenching around him, and he groaned and tensed. She did not reach to touch him, nor open her eyes to look at him as he thrust into her. She could do no such thing; she was far too busy, lost in the Never-Ending Climax Jinx. Severus came before too long, unable to hold back against the feel of Hermione cinching him into her. He relished the feel of his pleasure, but nearly laughed at the way it was over in seconds, while Hermione had spent the last four minutes solid in a frenzy.

As Severus bucked his hips against her body, he thought the _Interminagaudens_ spell had been the invention of a witch. For men, the jinx was an embarrassing and potentially painful fate. For women, it seemed, the only negative end result would be exhaustion. Hermione was still tossing her sweaty head back and forth against her pillow, her eyes wrenched shut in bliss, her voice hoarse as she said Severus' name over and over again. He pulled himself out of her and murmured,

" _Finite incantatem._ "

For a while, he thought she was asleep, lying there covered in sweat and her own fluids and his seed. Her chest heaved and her eyes were closed and her limbs were flung awkwardly about her. But then, at last, Hermione said in a gravelly whisper,

"Fifty points to Slytherin."

Severus laughed quietly and pushed her damp hair from her forehead. She covered his fingers with hers and said,

"I need a shower… more badly, I think, than I ever have."

Severus nodded, though she could not see. He pulled her knuckles to his lips and kissed them, and he said, "Then, my darling, my intelligent and determined and wicked little wife… then you shall rest."

* * *

" _Confundo. Confundo."_ Severus snapped his wand back and forth between the two hooded Death Eaters that stalked slowly along the sidewalks of Grimmauld Place. The Death Eaters knew vaguely where Number 12 Grimmauld Place was, though of course they had no means of accessing the Magical safe haven.

Almost immediately after his Confundus Charms hit them, Travers and Macnair wandered aimlessly into a nearby alley. Severus gestured for Hermione to follow him. She trotted behind him as they crossed the narrow cobblestone street, slick with cold rain. In the darkness, Severus could see the old, stou house squeeze out between numbers 11 and 13.

Severus knew, too, that before he'd died, Alastor Moody had put jinxes on 12 Grimmauld Place to keep Severus out. Members of the Order of the Phoenix had explained this to Severus at Shell Cottage, with some measure of embarrassment. Of course, before Moody had placed the jinxes, it had been believed that Severus' killing of Dumbledore was full-on murder. He had instructions on how to overcome the jinxes set by Moody. That didn't make them any less of an annoyance.

As Severus and Hermione walked into the musty old house, he was greeted by a Teraskoni - a monster made of dust in the form of Albus Dumbledore. It came careening down the corridor, fully formed in a hyper-realistic imitation of the old wizard that Severus had been forced to throw from the Astronomy Tower. Severus frowned and heard Hermione whimper quietly from beside him as the Teraskoni hurtled closer with a soft swish. Severus called out, quietly enough so as not to wake the portrait of Walburga Black,

"I _killed_ you, Albus Dumbledore. I _killed_ you, just as you ordered me to do."

Just a moment before the dust Teraskoni of Dumbledore smacked into Severus, it disappeared. The dust figure of Dumbledore dissolved with a puff and a sigh, flying about in a swirling vortex of murky particles. The jinxed cloud settled silently on the carpet, which was so dusty anyway that one could scarcely notice the additional mess.

Severus looked down at Hermione, who scowled and said, "It would seem a bit unnecessary for Professor Moody to have made -"

"I do wish you would not refer to Alastor as 'Professor,'" Severus said tightly, stalking down the long corridor of the house. He sniffed and added, "You were instructed in your fourth year by Bartemius Crouch, Jr., not by Moody. He was never your professor."

"You're just cross that Dumbledore accidentally let a Death Eater - a real one - teach us for an entire year in Defense Against the Dark Arts, when that was the position you wanted so badly," Hermione countered. Severus felt his eyebrows crumple. It was an oddly sharp barb from her, but, then, she was probably a bit shaken after what had just happened. Severus chose to ignore what she'd said and proceeded briskly up the narrow stairway at the end of the corridor.

The wall sconces at the top of the stairs illuminated with flames, and Severus thought Hermione must be casting nonverbal spells at them. The stairs creaked angrily beneath Severus' feet as he climbed onto the first floor. He glanced into the bedroom on the left side of the first landing and felt Hermione touch his elbow gently to make him pause.

"This is the room I shared with Ginny," she murmured, pulling Severus toward the doorway. She gazed into the cramped little room with a bit of wonder, and Severus heard a strange crack in her voice as she lit the oil lamp on the table beside one of the lumpy beds in the room. He cast his eyes about the little space. There were two beds on knotty dark frames, each covered in heavy quilts and pillows, and Severus asked,

"Which was yours?"

Hermione jutted her wand out to the bed with the rose-colored, moth-eaten quilt on it. She mumbled, "Ginny was very fond of Crookshanks, you know. Most mornings I would wake up in this room and Crookshanks would be on Ginny's bed instead of mine. I wonder what became of him."

Severus thought suddenly that they ought not linger too much longer around this space. There was no positive energy radiating from his wife just then; she seemed melancholy and dark. He sighed and said in a conciliatory tone,

"The creature always seemed as though it was more than able of caring for itself. I'm certain Crookshanks is alive and well."

She turned to him in the doorway with a half-smile, her eyes sad, and said rather firmly, "Let's go find the portrait of Phineas Nigellus, shall we?"

They continued up the stairwell, ignoring the drawing-room where Severus knew a great many important Magical items lay. On the second floor was another bedroom that encapsulated too many memories, but they could not ignore this room at all. This was the room where Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley had spent their time at Grimmauld Place. It was also where the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black hung upon the wall.

Hermione stood frozen in the doorway for too long a moment, and Severus was loathe to say anything or make her move. He let her stand there, just staring into the dark bedroom. He knew that she was remembering what Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had been like in this bedroom. He knew she could see them both, laughing boys in candlelit merriment. She could see them with furrowed brows, deep in worried conversation. She could see them eating candies, could hear them discussing witches, could smell their too-strong cologne and their pubescent body odor. She could see the light in their eyes, even in the shadows that swallowed the bedroom now. She could sense her best friends - the living and the dead. Severus let her stand there and sense them, and when she turned and collapsed against his chest with heaving sobs, he let her cry.

He held her and said nothing. For what felt like an eternity, Severus said nothing, even as she shook and hiccupped against him. Finally, she raised her red-rimmed eyes to him and swiped her wrists over her face, and she asked in a crackling whisper,

"He's gone, isn't he, Severus?"

Severus nodded once, and he realized for the first time just how sorry he was about the fact that Ron Weasley had died. It wasn't just because he'd been Hermione's friend, either. The boy had been a troublesome annoyance at best for Severus over the years. He'd been a rather odious rule-breaker and a less-than-enthusiastic student. But Ronald Weasley had been nothing if not the typical brave and loyal Gryffindor. He had certainly not deserved a death by torture, a death of pain and suffering at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. It did not seem right in any shape or fashion that Ronald Weasley was dead. Least of all because he'd been Hermione's friend.

"D'you know," Hermione sniffled, taking a step back and giving Severus a sad smile, "I think if you hadn't gotten to me first, and if he'd managed to keep himself alive… d'you know, I think Ron Weasley would have tried to marry me?" She snorted out a miserable little laugh and shook her head at the memory of her friend and turned into the bedroom, illuminating the sconces on the wall. "What a world that would have been, eh?"

"Indeed," Severus answered in a bit of a clip. He followed her into the bedroom and moved to step in front of the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black. Their conversation at the doorway seemed to have awakened the portrait from its dormant state. The grey-bearded Slytherin peered out of his dusty old frame at them, eyeing Severus with a wary stare as he said carefully,

"Is that you, Headmaster?"

"Phineas Nigellus," Severus bowed his head and said tightly, "I'm sure you remember my wife, Hermione."

"Madam," replied the portrait. In other times, Severus knew, the old member of the Black family would not have treated Hermione with deference. He would have thought her a 'Mudblood.' But she was the wife of a Hogwarts headmaster, and she'd forged Magical genealogy. Today was hardly the day that Severus was going to correct that misconception. He licked his lips and said to the portrait,

"What news of Hogwarts?"

The portrait of Phineas Nigellus narrowed his painted eyes and frowned. "The Headmaster's office has been dark and quiet for some time… as I'm quite sure you know. Since your flight, Headmaster, the office has rightly refused admittance to the Usurper. She has tried - _oh, she has tried._ But the Castle will not let her in. The portraits talk, of course. I have heard of terrible treatment of students. Many instances of Unforgivables cast left and right for hardly any reason at all."

Severus felt his stomach turn, felt his lip curl up, and he nodded to urge Phineas Nigellus to continue, for the portrait had hesitated. The old painting paused, and then said,

"It is rumored among students, Headmaster Snape, that you are dead, you see. But two students in particular have been telling the others that that cannot be so. They say that if it were so, that Professor Alecto Carrow would be operating from the Headmaster's office. 'Professor Carrow can not get into the office because Professor Snape is alive. And if he alive _and_ gone, he must be in trouble. We owe it to him to find him and Madam Granger, to help them both.' That is what those two students have been saying. I am made to understand that they have been punished often for their disobedience by the Carrows."

"Who are those students?" Hermione asked curiously from beside Severus. He had some idea, of course, and Phineas Nigellus Black confirmed his suspicions when he said sharply,

"A Ravenclaw girl called Luna Lovegood and a Gryffindor boy… Neville Longbottom."

Hermione's breath shook beside Severus, and he felt her hand reach for his and squeeze it gently. Severus nodded his head and thanked Phineas Nigellus for the update on the school. Then he said,

"We have come, Headmaster, to ask a favor of you. We need to get a message to the Grey Lady - the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw - to find out the _current_ location of the Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem. I'm afraid I can give you no more information than that… but suffice it to say, Headmaster, that the very existence of wizardkind relies on the known location of the diadem. This is critical information. We must be in touch with Helena at once."

Phineas Nigellus looked abruptly concerned, and Severus knew his voice had gone low and sharp with the portrait. The subject of the old painting furrowed his grey brows and appeared to concentrate hard for a moment. Then at last he nodded and said,

"I think I know a way. There is a painting, here in the Headmaster's Office, of Headmaster Amrose Swott. It is the only painting of a figure who -"

"Is also a ghost. Yes!" Hermione clapped her hands rather excitedly from beside Severus, earning herself a scowl from the portrait and a scolding hush from Severus. As a look of hurt crossed her face, he reminded himself that he was no longer her teacher. Then he thought if she did not wish to be treated like a know-it-all, she ought not to bounce up and down like a fool. Severus sighed and turned back to Phineas Nigellus.

"Amrose Swott," he repeated calmly, nodding. "The 18th century headmaster. Yes. A painting in the office, who can, of course, convey the message to his other portrait. That painting can make contact with his own ghost, or with Helena Ravenclaw."

"The location of Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem," Phineas Nigellus said, repeating the task back to Severus, who gave a firm nod.

"We will stay here at Grimmauld Place until you've secured the information for us. At that point, we will ask you - if you are willing - to contact someone to fetch the piece for us. This is all critically important, Phineas Nigellus. I can not stress that enough."

The portrait nodded and rubbed at his beard. "I believe I can sense that," he said. "I shall speak at once with Headmaster Swott and see how quickly he can contact Helena Ravenclaw. Come back to this portrait in twelve hours' time - at eight in the morning. Hopefully, I shall have an answer for you then."

"Thank you, Headmaster Black," Hermione said from beside Severus, and he noticed that she'd lost her childish giggle. The portrait gave her an approving nod, and then he disappeared out the side of his frame.

Once he'd gone, Hermione looked at Severus and said in a serious tone, "If the diadem is at Hogwarts, I think we ought to have Luna Lovegood get it for us. She's willing to be tortured over and over again just to defend us. Just to tell people you're alive and that we're good. She wouldn't ask questions, Severus. If someone told her, 'Hermione and Professor Snape need you to go fetch this diadem and get it to them straight away,' Luna would do it. She would risk her life for it. You know that, Severus."

He nodded. She was right, of course. Minerva McGonagall would do it, too, of course, and she was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. But Minerva McGonagall explicitly did not trust Severus. She had been given many reasons not to trust Severus, and so though she might acknowledge Severus as an 'ally,' there would always be a corner of her heart that saw Severus as an enemy. That was not true for Luna Lovegood. The odd girl was a bit loopy, to be certain. But Hermione was right. If there was ever a creature who would lay down her life for the cause without asking why, it was Ms. Lovegood.

Severus nodded. "If we find out the diadem is in the Room of Requirement," he said, "We shall send Luna Lovegood to fetch it for us. Then we shall have sneak to Hogsmeade through the Shrieking Shack and go to Tomes and Scrolls. I still count Othello Copperfield, the owner of Tomes and Scrolls, as an old and discreet friend of mine. She will take the diadem to him in careful wrapping and we will pick it up from him there."

Hermione looked pleased at that, but then she chewed her lip and admitted, "All of this is assuming that the diadem is at Hogwarts."

Severus cocked his head to the side and said, "We shall have to wait twelve hours and find out from Headmaster Black whether that's the case or not."

"Right. Well, I'm off to take a shower, then," Hermione said, and she moved to step quickly beyond Severus. He thought perhaps she just wanted out of the room where Ron and Harry had slept during their time in Grimmauld Place, so he let her go, watching her disappear into the dingy bathroom.

* * *

Three hours later, Hermione had clean hair and a full stomach. She and Severus had scarfed down food - they'd Transfigured biscuits from her Expanded bag into soup and bread - and some tea. They'd eaten at the long wooden table in the kitchen where Hermione had spent many evenings with her friends, where happy and sad conversations alike had occurred. Where Order of the Phoenix meetings had happened, where Hermione had not been allowed because she'd been too young. She could still remember Severus going into the kitchen for meetings while Hermione and the others listened in with Extendable Ears from the staircase. That all seemed like a lifetime ago.

She had put on an old t-shirt and a pair of flannel pants and had settled into a bedroom in a far nook of the third floor while Severus showered. It seemed like a cozy enough space, though it needed cleaning. She'd Scoured the room of dust and rid it of doxies. She'd changed the bedding from tattered old blankets into a nicer set, a velvet burgundy duvet to shut out the chill. She lit a fire in the marble hearth and had pulled herself into a bed with a book from her bag - _Ende of Deth,_ the ancient copy of the Tale of the Three Brothers that Severus had gotten her for her birthday.

Hermione could hear the hot water juddering through the old pipes in the walls as Severus took his shower in the bathroom down the corridor. She opened the weighty book on her lap and illuminated her wand, casting the ghostly blue light onto the odd illustration before her. It was the symbol of the Deathly Hallows - the Symbol of the Master of Death, as Severus had begun to call it. They'd discussed the notion that _perhaps_ if Harry had all three Deathly Hallows in his possession when he confronted Voldemort, somehow he might survive having the horcrux within him destroyed. But even Severus thought all that would happen then is that Voldemort would gain the Hallows for himself. Hermione sighed heavily and looked at the symbol and the text beneath it.

' _For dyd twa brethren a graunt dwale commit. Thinken them bothe, that hys tool wille gar Dethe creaunt. And the terce brother, dyd he wyth Dethe bi-comen Frenden. But dyd he not gar Dethe creaunt. To gar Dethe creaunt, thresum toles thurfen. On-lepi thane gar man bi-comen Sire ofe Deth. On-lepi thane gar bi-comen Ende ofe Deth.'_

Hermione scowled down at the page. This text was significantly more difficult to parse out than some of the other bits had been. It almost seemed as though this were an older dialect, even farther removed from modern speech than the rest of the ancient manuscript. Hermione looked gently through the pages and realized that she was right; this passage was clearly made up of very antiquated wording that probably came from nearly a thousand-year-old conventions. She finally managed to make sense of it and realized what it said.

' _For the first two brothers had been mistaken. They had each thought that their tool alone would conquer death. And the third brother made friends with death, but did not conquer it. To conquer death, all three tools were needed. Only then could one be the Master of Death. Only then would there be the End of Death.'_

That was not the way that most modern copies of the book ended, Hermione had come to know. Most of the newer version of the Tale of the Three Brothers ended with the last brother embracing death, walking off into the stereotypical sunset. But Beedle the Bard had not penned this book, nor the story itself. This passage probably went nearly all the way back to the Peverell brothers themselves, Hermione thought with a shiver. Then she shivered again, for she glanced up from her book to see that Severus was standing in the doorway of the bedroom with nothing but a towel around his waist.

"Hermione Granger reading in the dark? My, my… something I never thought I'd see," Severus teased her, holding the towel at his hip with one hand and coursing his fingers through his damp hair with the other. He smirked, and Hermione felt a strange quiver of desire go down her spine. She carefully shut her copy of _Ende of Deth_ and snuffed out her wand, changing the aura in the room from cool to warm light as the fireplace lit the space.

Severus stepped into the room and nonchalantly pulled the towel off of his body, folding it neatly and placing it over the back of the armchair before the fireplace. He stalked naked to where his robes lay waiting after their Cleansing Spell. At the sight of him walking nude, Hermione could not suppress a little whimper, and he turned to her and laughed softly.

"Is something wrong, Ms. Granger?"

"Don't call me that," Hermione pleaded, shutting her eyes and shaking her head. She swallowed as a heady feeling took her over, and she would not have been able to explain why it made her feel more alive to hear him call her by her last name.

"Why not?" he demanded, as though he could tell he'd struck a nerve. He padded over to stand beside the bed, and she felt him touching the thick braid she'd pulled over one shoulder. She yanked her eyes shut but could tell his low voice was close when he spoke again. "I remember telling you not to call me ' _Professor.'_ Not to call me ' _sir.'_ Is it the same reason for you now as it was for me then?"

"Yes," she nodded, unable to do more than whisper that word. It was true; something had seemed decidedly _off_ about the fact that they'd been a teacher and a student when they'd first become a couple. At the same time, that had been an unmistakable part of their dynamic, of _who they were,_ and it had been lost in the chaos of the world.

"We are not at school anymore," Severus reminded Hermione, and she opened her eyes to look at him. He moved his hand from her braid to her neck and brushed his knuckles against her soft skin, parting his lips as his throat bobbed with a thick gulp. She could see him struggling to maintain his stony expression, though it was evident he wanted her. His voice stayed solid as he said again, "I am not your teacher, and you are not my student. And nobody calls me ' _sir'_ anymore, least of all you, Ms. Granger."

Hermione realized in that moment just how much that fact affected Severus. If he'd had dozens of pimple-faced Hufflepuffs calling him ' _sir,_ ' he would have been just fine. If he'd had a second-year Ravenclaw sobbing in his office because she'd melted a cauldron, or a fifth-year Slytherin stressing over OWLs, or two seventh-years in trouble for snogging… then he would have been fine. If he'd been looming over other teachers, or passing briskly through corridors that were home to him, or eating the same meals he'd always eaten at the same table where he'd always sat… he'd have been fine. If he'd been sleeping in the quarters where he'd lived for fifteen years, or working in the office where he'd worked for all that time, and all the while people had been calling him ' _sir,_ ' then Severus Snape would have been just fine.

But they weren't at school. So none of that was happening. And Severus Snape was not fine.

Perhaps a year earlier he'd wanted Hermione to stop calling him ' _sir,_ ' because a year earlier there had been pimple-faced Hufflepuffs to do it. But now there was no one to do it. Now they had horcruxes to destroy while everyone wanted them dead. Now Hogwarts was in figurative ruins, the wizarding world itself was on a chaotic, uncertain brink… and Severus Snape was _not_ fine. He had lost a great deal of himself, Hermione thought suddenly. If by calling him ' _sir,_ ' just for one night, she could give him a tiny bit of himself back… then she would.

Hermione reached tentatively up for his hands and laced her fingers through his. She swallowed, feeling nervous all of a sudden, for she knew what sort of bomb she was about to set off. She looked him right in his dark eyes and put on a sweet little tone as she said quietly,

" _Sir_ , I wonder if you might help me with something."

She dug her teeth into her bottom lip and watched the flash come over Severus' eyes as she spoke. She knew full well that he was no pedophile. He had never loved her _because_ she had been his student; he'd loved her _in spite of_ that fact. And, anyway, Hermione was of age when they'd begun their trysts. But in recent weeks, Severus had had all his power stripped of him, and that was something Severus had always relied upon - power. So tonight Hermione was going to give a tiny bit of it back to him.

Severus seemed as though he were quite pleased indeed with that arrangement. He tipped his head up a bit, and Hermione felt his hands tighten on hers.

"What do you need help with, Ms. Granger?" His voice was the brusque clip she'd heard from him in the classroom for years, and Hermione struggled not to smile at the sound of it. Instead, she tried to make something up quickly.

"Erm… Doxies. I found some in this room. I Scourged it in here, but I'm nervous there might be eggs. Can you… can you teach me how to check for doxy eggs?"

She knew full well how to check for doxy eggs. And as Severus cocked an eyebrow at her, she knew he'd seen right through her. So it was with little surprise that she watched him sneer a bit, cock his head, and say,

"If I'm not mistaken, _Ms. Granger,_ you learned how to reveal doxy egg infestations in… _third_ year Defense Against the Dark Arts. Yes?"

He moved to climb onto the old bed, and it creaked a bit beneath his weight. Hermione shivered in the cool air of the bedroom as she felt Severus' hands press her wrists to the blankets, and she nodded.

"Oh. Yes. That's right," she said, feigning forgetfulness. " _Infestatio Ovum Revelio…_ I'd forgotten."

"Had you?" Severus asked smoothly, kneeling on the duvet beside Hermione and moving her hands swiftly above her head, "or were you lying to me?"

He bent down and his lips were an inch from Hermione's as she panted quietly, feeling her heart flutter with sudden need for him. She struggled to speak for a moment, and finally she admitted against his mouth, "I'm sorry. I was lying."

Her pretense was gone then. She was submitting to him, not because it was a game, but because she couldn't help it. It felt _good_ to let him hold her hands above her head, to let him overwhelm her with his authoritative aura. He let out a low, rumbling laugh against her lips, and Hermione burned with a fever of want. She squirmed on the blanket, and he moved quickly. He used one strong hand to clutch both wrists above her head, and the other hand grasped at her hip and stilled it.

"Do not _ever_ lie to me, Ms. Granger," Severus growled, moving his mouth to kiss her neck He held fast to her hip so Hermione was forced to lie still, even as he lathed his tongue on her sensitive skin. She cried out and he snarled, "I will always know when you're lying. I can see right into your mind. Remember?"

"I remember, sir," Hermione said, but just the same she heard Severus mumble,

" _Legilimens._ "

Then there was a crashing sensation, and Hermione felt her memories crack open for him like a shattered glass sphere.

' _It's been over a half hour… Do you feel yourself again?'_

 _Hermione swallowed heavily and looked about the room. The space was no longer swimming in her vision. She was not dizzy anymore, and her nausea had subsided. With a twinge of guilt, and more than a fair bit of shame, she realized how she had come to be sitting across a desk from Professor Snape in an empty classroom. She glanced down at herself and was abruptly self-conscious in her low-cut gown, and felt her cheeks grow warm. She frowned and flicked her eyes up to see Professor Snape eyeing her with a question in his black eyes._

 _Hermione remembered thinking while she was drunk that he was handsome. Well, she hadn't been all that wrong, she considered. Tonight, more than usual, Professor Snape looked sharp and sophisticated. Certainly, Hermione had enjoyed the past half hour here with him, snarkily discussing Hogwarts Christmas traditions and rattling through a historical book list. It had been a far better time than that she'd been forced to spend with Cormac McLaggen, that was certain. Professor Snape had been right, after all. The males who were Hermione's age were all boys. Ron was petulant and immature, while Harry was volatile and unpredictable. Cormac McLaggen was… well, he seemed to be thinking with the wrong bloody organ, that was for certain. But the person across the desk from Hermione was a man, not a boy, and he had been the one to yank her aggressor away from her. He'd been the one to give her a potion to set her rights, the one to make certain she stayed hydrated. He'd even known all the books she should use for her History of Magic research._

 _"Miss Granger?"_

 _Hermione gasped a bit, jarring herself back to reality. Professor Snape had both his eyebrows raised and was waiting for an answer. "Do you suppose you can go back to Gryffindor Tower now?" he asked._

 _"Oh. Yes. I'm sorry, sir. Yes, I'll be fine. Thank you for all of your help. Truly."_

Hermione felt queasy and dizzy as Severus yanked himself from her mind, and as she stared up into his face she saw a strange heat there. He quirked up half his mouth and said seriously,

"You were very pretty that night. The night Mr. McLaggen assaulted you in the corridor."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione said awkwardly, and she felt Severus pull his hand from her wrists. He shook his head and frowned.

"Don't ever call me that again," he whispered, sitting up onto his knees. Hermione felt as though ice water had gone through her veins, as though him seeing that memory had doused the fire that had been burning between them, and she mumbled desperately,

"I'm… I'm confused, Severus. You wanted me to -"

"Idiot Hufflepuffs who misspell their own names should call me ' _sir._ ' Once I'm reinstated as Headmaster, the other teachers may call me ' _sir'_ if they wish. Harry Potter should call me ' _sir'_ until the day he dies. But _you_ , Hermione Jean… you must call me 'husband,' for that is what I am to you. I am the man who loves you. You understand that, don't you?"

"Yes." Hermione nodded, and she reached up to cup his jaw in her hands. He leaned down to kiss her, and when he did the magic from their _Magnum Verbum Honoris_ connection thrummed powerfully between them. Hermione sighed against his mouth, and he arranged himself atop her. He kissed her until he grew hard and she grew damp for him, and he touched her for a while until she found a quiet, peaceful release. Then he pushed himself into her wet, smooth folds and pulsed his hips against hers, muttering over and over again that he loved her until he bucked himself once or twice and gritted his teeth and cried out her name like a spell or a prayer. Then he pulled her up tightly on his chest and she nearly fell asleep, listening to his heartbeat against her ear.

"Did you really find me handsome?" Severus asked, and Hermione was so very nearly asleep that she had no idea what he was talking about.

"Hmm?" she grunted softly.

"The night of Slughorn's party. Did you _really_ find me handsome?"

Hermione giggled quietly against Severus' skin, letting his chest hair tickle her nose as she whispered, "Did then. Do now. Yes. Why?"

"You know that I wore that tailored jacket to impress you," he said, kissing her hair, and Hermione looked up at him and scowled.

"No, you didn't." She shook her head in disbelief, and Severus nodded very seriously.

"I did. Just a few nights earlier I'd caught you alone in a classroom and realized you'd become very beautiful. I didn't realize it then, but I thought perhaps if I wore that jacket you might notice me. What a lovestruck fool I was… it's positively humiliating."

"Is it? You're lying naked in bed with me right now," Hermione reminded him. She dragged her fingers around his chest and felt him shiver, felt the prod of his manhood on her thigh as he came back to life. She curled up her lips and kept touching him as she said, "I noticed you."

"Do you know how infuriating it was to see Cormac McLaggen push you up against a wall and kiss you? I mean to say… _yes_ , of course it would have been infuriating and unacceptable to see _anyone_ in that position, and… and you were unacceptably drunk, Hermione. I should have given you many detentions for that, even if you had been assaulted. You'd broken rules by being that drunk, you know."

"So punish me," Hermione teased him, reaching beneath the blankets and wrapping her hand around his cock. Severus groaned quietly and shook his head as he mumbled,

"It was… over a year ago."

"Ah. So it was," Hermione nodded. "You'll let it go, then?"

She pushed Severus' shoulder gently so he rolled onto his back, and she swung a leg with him. She pushed herself down onto his hardening member and felt him solidify fully within her as she sank down. He clutched at her waist and hissed as she began to move atop him, and Hermione touched her own nub with her thumb as she ground her hips and bounced a bit. Then, starting to count days as she thought about Slughorn's party and winter and New Year's Eve, she panicked. She leaned down to kiss the skin beneath Severus' ear and gasped as she realized something.

"Tomorrow is… tomorrow is your birthday," she panted at last, slowing her hips. Severus paused for a moment as if he were making sure she was correct. Then he resumed their motions and grunted back at her,

"So it is. What of it?"

"We… have… we have to celebrate," Hermione insisted, kissing Severus' neck as he moaned. He shook his head, and Hermione nodded on his neck as she cried, "Mm-hmm!"

"No, we most certainly do not… _can we discuss this later, please?_ " Severus demanded, sounding breathless and desperate as his hands clamped hard on Hermione's slim waist and drove her onto his cock. She laughed gently and nodded, sitting up and giving him more attention.

Ten minutes later, after he'd come and cleaned them both up, she finally got him to pant,

"There will be no ridiculous celebration of my birthday. Is that plainly understood?"

"Oh, yes. Fine. Whatever you say, Headmaster," Hermione laughed. But before they could tease one another too much more on the matter, they'd both fallen asleep.

It was probably better that way, Hermione thought. It was better that they wore one another out in Grimmauld Place, where the memories could keep her awake and depressed for ages. She needed to rest, after all. In the morning they would learn whether Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem was in Hogwarts, whether Luna Lovegood might be able to fetch it for them. Whether their quest to continue destroying Voldemort's immortal, split soul one piece at a time could continue.

And tomorrow was Severus' thirty-eighth birthday… and they had to celebrate.


	4. Chapter 4

_IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE - PLEASE READ THIS: A reader brought it to my attention that my timelines got thrown off. It was a long time in between writing the first few chapters of this story and resuming the new writing. As a result, I confess I rather lost track of my own storyverse's timeline. That's embarrassing and sloppy, and I do apologize._

 _In any case, it's not Christmas. It's January (the meeting at Shell Cottage took place on New Year's Eve). Which means… Severus' birthday. We may even be a few days off on that, but I'm just going to kind of recalibrate the timeline and settle on that. The previous chapter has been adjusted to reflect this timeline at the very end. If it helps you to just re-read the last few paragraphs of the previous chapter, I advise doing that._

 _I will have to go back and adjust Chapter 6. Again, I apologize and I appreciate your patience in dealing with my slop. Thanks to muriel1978 for pointing out my error._

 _I hope you enjoy this chapter. Onward!_

* * *

"Well?" Severus said to the portrait of Phineas Nigellus. He realized quickly that he'd been too sharp when the old painting snipped back,

" _Good morning_ to you, as well, _Headmaster._ " The portrait narrowed its eyes and spoke to Severus as though he were a petulant student, and Severus quickly thought that some habits never died in old teachers. Even the dead teachers.

"I apologize, sir," Severus said deferentially. "I am eager to hear of any news you might have regarding the diadem."

Phineas Nigellus sniffed lightly. "Yes," he said, and beside Severus, Hermione shifted anxiously on her feet. Phineas Nigellus continued, "Amrose Swott spoke with the Grey Lady yesterday. I am sorry to report that Helena Ravenclaw's ghost apparently became quite upset upon being asked about her mother's diadem."

Severus frowned and glanced down to Hermione. She sighed and appeared not to show any emotion, though Severus could only imagine that her head was screaming at the thought of missing out on information.

"So she said nothing useful?" Hermione pressed, chewing on her fingernail and twirling her wand anxiously. Phineas Nigellus shook his head.

"All she would tell the ghost of Amrose Swott was this… she told Swott _, 'That silly boy asked the same thing of me, and when I told him where it was, he put it in that room and hid it away. I won't speak of it_.' That's precisely what she said. Headmaster Swott's ghost approached her once more, and he was then confronted by the Bloody Baron, who came to the emotional defense of his ancient love. Things got a bit testy between the three, and the Fat Friar had to step in and mediate, and…"

The portrait of Phineas Nigellus shrugged, but Severus ignored the way the portrait trailed off and turned his attention to the painted globe at his side. Instead, Severus looked at Hermione's excited face and knew exactly what she was thinking.

The diadem was there, at Hogwarts. ' _When I told him where it was, he put it in that room and hid it away._ ' Perhaps Phineas Nigellus hadn't understood how significant or helpful those words from Helena Ravenclaw had been, but both Hermione and Severus understood. Severus swallowed heavily as Hermione nodded once at him. He turned to the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black and cleared his throat. The old headmaster turned away from the painted globe, his finger lingering on South America, and he raised his grey eyebrows expectantly.

"Is there any way at all you can get word to Luna Lovegood? That Ravenclaw student you said was defending Hermione and myself and being punished by the Carrows for doing so?" Severus asked seriously. Phineas Nigellus looked concerned, but he sat up straighter in his painted chair and said,

"I can certainly try. Phyllida Spore has a portrait not only in the Headmaster's Office, but also in Ravenclaw Tower. I will gladly speak with her and see if she can contact the Lovegood girl. Any deed I can accomplish for the rightful headmaster of Hogwarts is certainly worth trying."

"It's rather a long message," Hermione said cautiously. "Have you got a paper and quill in your portrait?" She appeared to glance about the painting, at all the magnifying glasses and scales and globes that Phineas Nigellus had about the painted library around him. The old wizard glanced about and snatched at a painted bit of parchment and an old quill. He dipped the painted quill into some painted ink, and it occurred to Severus just how strange Magical portraits were - even to a wizard like himself.

"Go ahead," Phineas Nigellus said dutifully. Severus cleared his throat and spoke slowly as the old portrait took notes.

"Please have Headmistress Spore give the following message to Luna Lovegood in Ravenclaw Tower. The message must be conveyed exactly this way, or confusion will result," he said. " _In the room where the D.A. held its meetings, there is an object of the utmost importance hidden. It is a diadem - a tiara which bears the markings of Rowena Ravenclaw. There is a silver eagle and a large blue gemstone. The precise location of the diadem in the R. of R. is not known. When you've found it, hide it carefully and notify Phyllida Spore._ "

Phineas Nigellus nodded vigorously as he wrote, his quill flying as he scribbled. His grey eyebrows crumpled over his painted forehead as he seemed to process what it was that Severus had asked of him. When he set down his quill, the painted version of the man who had once been headmaster said,

"May I ask why it is that you have need of Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem?"

"You may not," Severus clipped. Then, seeing the profound annoyance in Phineas Nigellus' face, he softened his tone a bit as he said, "Now, if you will take that message at once back to the Headmaster's Office and convey it _precisely_ to Phyllida Spore… and have her send Luna Lovegood -"

"To _the room where the D.A. held its meetings._ Yes. I can see." The portrait of Phineas Nigellus nodded as he glanced down at his parchment. Then he rose from his chair and bowed a bit as he said tightly to Hermione, "Madam."

"We shall return for an update in twenty-four hours," Severus said in a strict tone, and Phineas Nigellus nodded dismissively as he stalked right out of his frame.

Hermione and Severus stood in silence for a long while until at last Severus said firmly, "That is that, I'm afraid. There is nothing else that can be done just now. We have a supply of groceries in your Expanded bag, and we shall simply have to hunker down here until we receive word from Phineas Nigellus that Miss Lovegood has managed to obtain the diadem. It is far too dangerous to leave this place until we have reason to believe we can go and fetch the diadem directly from Tomes and Scrolls."

"At which point we will destroy it," Hermione nodded, and Severus watched her lips go pale. "And then we will move on to the snake. Nagini. And on to… to Harry. And finally to _him_. Isn't that how it's going to go now?"

She turned her face to look at him, her skin milky and tired-looking in the grey light coming through the window. Severus nodded once and said, "Yes. That's how it's going to go. I hope so, anyway."

Hermione sighed and bowed her head. She pulled something from the pocket of her denims and held it out as she sniffed and mumbled, "Happy birthday, Severus."

She pressed a long, hard object into Severus' palm and started to move past him, but he touched her elbow to make her stop. At first, he was confused when he stared at the little thing she'd given to him, for it was only a toothbrush. It was a wooden-handled one, with perfectly ordinary-looking white bristles. Severus was not certain whether she'd been joking in giving it to him. It _was_ his birthday, of course, but they were not exactly in a position to celebrate properly, nor had he ever desired to do so with his birth date. So he was not sure whether to thank her. He narrowed his eyes and nodded at her instead, and Hermione shifted where she stood. She shrugged and said,

"I made it myself. It's enchanted so that it will begin automatically brushing your teeth when the bristles touch your mouth - rather like a Muggle electric brush. Toothpaste will come through the bristles on its own, and the bristles are self-regenerating, so the brush will last indefinitely. It may seem a silly gift, but… erm… well, my parents were -"

"Dentists." Severus nodded firmly and touched his lips to Hermione's forehead. He would have kissed her lips, but suddenly it occurred to him that he had need of her toothbrush. He chuckled and insisted, "It is not at all silly. And, if I'm honest, it's a rather ingenious series of spells you've enlisted to make this thing."

He held it up and studied it for a moment, and then he heard Hermione say, "Right. Well, there's cake downstairs waiting, so…"

"Cake?" Severus quirked a disbelieving eyebrow up at her and felt his cheeks color. He shook his head and sighed. "I do not wish for any sentimental birthday celebrations, Hermione."

"I know," she shrugged, but just the same she turned to go from the room and make her way down the stairs. As she went, she called out, "Come and have some cake, will you? Who knows how many birthdays _any_ of us have left, after all?"

* * *

"Did you really _need_ to put the number on it?" Severus scowled at the admittedly well-decorated white cake on the long kitchen table, feeling compelled to wipe the frosting 3 and the 8 off of it. He looked up to Hermione, who giggled and shrugged.

"Did I get it wrong?" she asked playfully. "Are you not thirty-eight today?"

"I am," Severus snarled, giving her a sour look. "I needed no reminders."

"Hardly ancient," Hermione said lightly. She moved over to a little drawer in the kitchen and pulled out a few little wax candles. They weren't specifically birthday candles, and as she jabbed them into her cake, the whole thing looked rather haphazard. Severus tried not to smirk at the thought of it all - himself and Hermione standing alone in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, pantomiming a birthday party.

" _Incendio,_ " Hermione muttered, flicking her wand toward the candles. Little flames appeared upon them. Severus narrowed his eyes at her to warn her not to do what she was thinking of doing. But her sly grin widened, and she took Severus' hands in hers. Then in a gentle voice, she began to sing, "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you."

She paused to lean up and plant a soft kiss on his lips, and Severus felt his foul mood start to dissolve a bit. She pulled away and smiled, pushing his hair from his eyes as she continued in little more than a whisper,

"Happy birthday, dear Severus. Happy birthday to you."

He leaned to kiss her again, seeing nothing but love in her warm brown eyes. She tasted sweeter than any cake ever could, he thought. As Severus snaked his arms around Hermione, he seriously considered pushing her down onto the table and doing indecent things to her. But then she pulled her mouth from his and murmured,

"There's wax dripping on your cake. Make a wish."

Severus huffed and turned to his cake. He stared for a moment at the candles and tried to quickly think of a birthday wish. He pinched his lips tightly as he remembered the way Septima Vector had come storming into his office, insisting that his and Hermione's lives had become so entangled that they could not survive without one another. The Magnum Verbum Honoris meant that their paths were sewn tightly together, and according to Septima Vector, no path went terribly far for them.

Severus gulped heavily. He had never taken the idea of a birthday wish seriously at all. But it was with utmost seriousness that he shut his eyes now and thought, _I wish for a long, long life for Hermione Granger._

Then he opened his eyes and puffed out a breath toward the candles, extinguishing them. Hermione clapped and bounced on her toes beside him, and then she was using her wand to slice and serve up the cake she'd made.

"Where did you learn such skill with baking charms?" Severus demanded, cocking an eyebrow at Hermione across the worn wooden table. He shoveled another bite of cake into his mouth and savored it.

"Molly Weasley," Hermione laughed quietly, and Severus gave her a nod.

"Ah," he said. "Yes. I might have known."

Their peace was interrupted by a loud _CRACK-CRACK!_ Severus flew to his feet, grabbing his wand from the table and jabbing it out into the air before him. Hermione did the same, lunging into a defensive position as they quickly realized what had happened.

"Grimmauld Place," Ginny Weasley breathed, looking to Harry Potter as he tucked Severus' iron pendant back into his shirt.

"Harry! Ginny! What's happened?" Hermione cried, lowering her wand and flying into the arms of her friends on instinct. Severus wanted to pull her away off of them, to demand a good explanation from the interlopers, but he stood back and observed silently instead.

"Snatchers. Or, it might have been, if we hadn't fled in time. Harry broke the taboo on _his_ name," Ginny Weasley scowled, crossing her arms over her chest. Harry Potter threw his arms up in exasperation and cried,

"I told you, Ginny, it was an accident! I -"

"Did it not occur to you, _Mister Potter_ , that by bringing yourselves here after activating the taboo, you might just be inviting Snatchers straight to Grimmauld Place?" Severus could not control the angry tremble in his voice as he loomed over the group before him. He felt very much like their old teacher now, even as Harry Potter glared up at him.

"We waited until the Snatchers showed up, Professor Snape," Ginny Weasley said carefully. "It actually _did_ occur to us that we needed to wait the Snatchers to find us before leaving, so that they couldn't follow. So Harry had the _Oraverit_ in his hand, and the very second that the Snatchers arrived, we Disapparated. We were trying to take precautions, sir. Even if Harry was careless in the first place."

She glared at her boyfriend again, tightening her arms around her own body. Severus knew that Ginny Weasley was probably just as tired of running and hiding as he and Hermione were. Ginny and Harry Potter were probably on one another's last nerve at this point. Severus raised his eyebrows and looked to the birthday cake on the table with a bored expression.

"Are either of you hungry?" he sighed.

* * *

"Feels a bit different now, doesn't it?" Hermione sighed as she turned over her shoulder. She climbed the last few stairs from the second floor up to the third and paused on the landing. Harry nodded as he followed her and looked around, and Ginny agreed,

"It isn't quite the same without Remus' worried muttering, or Dumbledore popping in unexpectedly."

"Or Ron talking my ear off about the Chudley Cannons until three in the morning," Harry joked softly, leaning back on the wall. Hermione fought back a thick lump in her throat as she added,

"Or Fred and George testing their inventions, and the sound of Mrs. Weasley's angry shrieks as she scolded them."

" _Fred and George - come down here at once!_ " Harry, Ginny, and Hermione all imitated Molly Weasley with uncanny accuracy, and the girls dissolved into giggles at the memory.

Ginny shook her head through her tears. "Then Mum's screaming would set off the portrait of Walburga Black, the same way that Tonks stumbling over the troll-leg would do -"

"And Sirius would yell at Mrs. Black to shut up. It never worked." Harry nodded. Suddenly his smile disappeared, and Hermione's did, too. Ginny swiped a stray tear from her eye and laced her fingers through Harry's as she said admitted,

"I'm glad, in a way, that Harry broke the taboo. It is good, probably, that the four of us can reconvene. Even for a brief time."

Hermione nodded solemnly. She moved across the landing and opened an enormous wardrobe, in which a great many spare linens were stored. She and Ginny pulled out some blankets and pillowcases, which they proceeded to wash with spells to get rid of the musty smell.

The trio spent the next ten minutes Scouring a big, lonely bedroom on the third floor until the walls gleamed and the old wooden bed was rid of dust. As Hermione helped Ginny make the bed and Harry lit a fire, Ginny said carefully,

"I'm sorry we intruded on Professor Snape's birthday."

"Please, Ginny." Hermione shook her head and frowned. "Don't call him that anymore. None of us are at school."

Ginny scoffed and gave a little snort as she fluffed a pillow. "Am I meant to call him 'Severus'? He _was_ our teacher - and, you must admit, a rather frightening one. I'm sorry, but for the time being, he's going to be 'Professor Snape' to me."

Hermione pinched her lips tightly and shrugged. "In any case, there was entirely too much cake for just him and me, and I was glad someone else came to help us eat it."

"It was very good cake," Harry reassured her from the fireplace. He leaned on the mantle and pulled his glasses off, rubbing at his green eyes as though he were very tired indeed. Hermione thought Harry looked older now than he'd ever looked before, and she knew that Harry was missing Ron badly.

"Thanks, Harry," she murmured. She and Ginny finished making the bed, and Hermione pulled herself up, stretching her back as she said, "If the two of you need food, there are tins of beans and soup in the cupboards downstairs. Nothing delicious, but it can all be Transfigured. Gamp's Laws and all that. Ginny, I know your mum taught you cooking spells well enough."

"You learned from her better than I did," Ginny moaned quietly. She shook her head. "I managed to turn perfectly edible carrots into muddy dog food one time."

Hermione tried not to gag at the thought of that, instead laughing a bit and shaking her head. "Right, well… there's beans and soup in the kitchen," she said. She started to leave the room and said, "In the morning, we'll check back in with Phineas Nigellus about the situation at Hogwarts."

"I've no doubt that Luna will come through on this," Harry said firmly, and Hermione turned around to nod at him. Harry continued, "You were always right about her, Hermione. She's an odd duck, but… she's on our side."

Hermione took a deep breath. "As this all goes on, I think it becomes very clear who's really on what side, doesn't it, Harry?"

Ginny shifted uncomfortably beside the bed, but Harry kept his eyes locked on Hermione's and nodded. Finally, he lowered his gaze and said quietly,

"I'll never get along with Severus Snape," he admitted, "and I'll never, _ever_ understand why it is you think he's husband material. But if that greasy old git makes you happy, 'Mione… and if he's working so hard to destroy the horcruxes… then there's not very much I can say out loud against him."

Hermione felt a little flutter of relief then. She wished very much indeed that Ron was there with them, though of course Ron would be even less likely than Harry to ever come around to accepting Severus. Hermione felt her eyes burn a bit, and she decided it was past time to go to bed.

"Goodnight, Harry. Ginny." She shut the door softly behind her as she left the room and made her way back down to the second floor, where she knew Severus was getting himself ready for sleep.

She had spent the day reminiscing with Harry and Ginny about Grimmauld Place. They'd filled in blanks about what had happened over the last week or so, with Harry and Ginny admitting that they'd felt helpless in their lack of connection to other Magical allies. Severus and Hermione had shared as much about the quest to destroy the diadem as they could.

Hermione knew that Harry and Ginny showing up would have ruined the birthdays of a great many people simply through the force of intrusion. She knew that Severus didn't care much about birthdays. She also knew that he was probably less-than-enthused about the way Hermione had spent the day whispering and giggling with her old friends. So as she crept quietly into their bedroom, she said in the most seductive voice she could muster,

"The children are all tucked away for the night, my love."

Severus peered around the wing of the chair before the fireplace and smirked at her. He had on the black dressing-gown Hermione had stuffed into her bag before they'd first fled Hogwarts, and he drummed his fingers on the chair.

"Someday - a great many years from now - you will put a small child to bed and come to our room and make love to me. And we shall be interrupted by the child screaming for its mother," Severus said. Hermione giggled as she moved to stand before him.

"Is that so?" she asked. She cocked her head at him and felt suddenly more emotional than she'd intended on feeling. _A great many years from now_ , he'd said. _A small child_ , he'd said. But those were all ludicrous dreams just now, Hermione knew as she glanced around their hiding place. She was abruptly grateful for the long-lasting and powerful contraceptive potion he'd given her. A child would be a beautiful thing someday. But Severus had been right to protect her. Their life now was no life for an infant.

"You will be a very caring mother someday," Severus assured her, as though he could sense the melancholy rolling off her. Hermione realized he probably could, owing to their intense connection of Magnum Verbum Honoris. She threaded her fingers through his and squeezed as she attempted a little smile. Severus let out a little laugh from the back of his throat and said, "There is no need to lie and tell me I would be a good father."

Hermione smiled crookedly. "You will be the sort of father who does not tolerate nonsense," she said, staring at their linked fingers. "You will be the sort of father from whom children go scurrying in terror when they've done something wrong, and the sort of father to whom they go running when they need help. You do not love easily, Severus. But when you do love, you love deeply. I think you'll be a very good father. Someday."

She brought his knuckles to her lips and kissed them, and Severus curled up half his mouth as he pronounced in a low clip, "As for the so-called 'children' upstairs… let us just hope there is no telltale creaking through the ceiling tonight. I've had more than my fair exposure to Potter's sex life already."

Hermione snorted and moved to sit on Severus' lap. She put a thigh on either side of his, her denims rubbing his legs as she slid onto the chair with him. She pushed her chest against Severus' and touched her lips to his as she said playfully,

"Do you remember what I gave you for your birthday last year?"

"Yes." Severus' long fingers slid beneath the waistband of Hermione's trousers and his breath quivered slightly. Hermione felt a thrum of want pulse between the two of them as each remembered his thirty-seventh birthday. She could recall being in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom with him, pushing his fingers beneath her school skirt and grinding on his lap until he finished in his trousers. She had called him 'Severus' for the first time that night, and it had set him into a frenzy.

Now Severus was growing hard beneath her again, and as Hermione pushed her hips down onto his, she whispered onto his mouth,

"Happy birthday, Severus."

" _Evanesco._ "

Hermione gasped in horror as her trusty old denims were Vanished straight into nonbeing. Severus ignored her indignant protests and Vanished her knickers, her sweatshirt, and her bra, and soon Hermione was naked atop him.

"I have hardly any clothes with me, you know!" she cried angrily, suddenly not caring if Harry and Ginny could hear her from upstairs. But Severus clamped his hands onto her waist and rolled her hips onto his erection and smirked.

"That's a lie. You've got four pairs of trousers, two skirts, three blouses, four tank tops, a few jumpers and sweatshirts, and _plenty_ of knickers in that Expanded bag of yours. You won't miss those clothes."

"I will!" Hermione huffed, pushing her fists against Severus' chest. That only managed to make his dressing-gown fall off a bit, and she fought to ignore the waves of desire pulsing through her body. She growled with anger and stammered, "I d-don't have… you shouldn't have…"

"Fine. I apologize. I will buy you new clothes at the soonest opportunity. Those were worn out, anyway." Severus moved his mouth to Hermione's neck, and suddenly the sensation of pleasant warmth started to overtake her rage. But she still managed to protest,

"Worn-out clothes are the most… the most comfortable sort."

"Stop complaining and be glad that I've made you naked," Severus said against her skin in a pompous whisper. His hand cupped her breast and squeezed gently, his thumb flicking back and forth over her nipple. Hermione tried to stay quiet, but found herself utterly unable when Severus latched his mouth onto her breast. His mouth suckled and kissed her, nicking little bites and then soothing with long drags of his tongue. Hermione moaned aloud and buried her fingers in Severus' hair.

He used his other hand to push the small of her back down and forward, and Hermione felt her nub grinding against Severus' rigid hardness in his underwear. She gasped and nearly shouted his name when he reached between them and began to touch her there as she moved. It felt _too_ good, as though he were goading her closer to the precipice on purpose.

Hermione felt a bit frustrated by the teasing, and she reached her own hand to Severus' hip. She summoned all her magic to her throat and whipped it up into a tight ball, and then she thought, ' _Evanesco!'_

Severus' boxer-briefs Vanished, and he grunted against Hermione's collarbone when he realized it. But she mumbled, "Fair is fair."

Severus snarled and wrenched his erection from between them, and Hermione wriggled until she felt him against her entrance. She slid down onto him and they moved together for a long while. The feel of him inside of her only intensified the vibrating energy of their bond, and she could not quiet her voice. After a while, she became utterly unaware of how she was breathlessly calling for him, even though he was just inches away from her. She held fast to him and kissed him and said his name like a prayer, over and over. She keened out helplessly when the friction became too much and her pleasure exploded. Her ears were hot, her skin was buzzing. Her fingers tightened on his scalp in tandem with her womanhood around his shaft. Not long after she felt his hands wrench her waist hard against him, felt the warm pulse of his seed inside of her. She heard his low grunts of relief at her ear and felt him soothe her neck with kisses. And then he mumbled,

"I am _very_ certain that Potter heard you. That was not exactly subtle, Madam Granger."

Hermione felt embarrassment tingling through her veins as she climbed off of Severus. She was sore from being crammed into the chair with him, and she scowled as she realized her clothes were gone. She huffed as she cast a quick _tergeo_ upon them both and rifled about in her bag for pyjamas.

"We need to discuss the Elder Wand."

Hermione turned around to see that Severus was cinching closed the belt of his dressing-gown as he rose from his chair before the fireplace. She nodded and waited for him to explain more of what he meant.

"If we are correct in thinking that Draco Malfoy still masters the wand, then I think the best thing to happen is for Potter himself to come with us when we go to Hogsmeade."

"You mean… if Luna is able to get the diadem to Tomes and Scrolls, and you and I go there to get it? Have Harry come with us and… what, somehow sneak him into the castle and have him 'defeat' Draco? In a duel? Then what? That sounds extremely dangerous."

"Let us be frank, Hermione," Severus sighed. "If Potter is killed confronting Draco Malfoy, what would happen?"

Hermione felt her heart sink, and she suddenly felt disgusted. But she forced herself to say, "The horcrux within him would be destroyed, probably."

"Right." Severus nodded. "In a best-case scenario, Potter gets 'ownership' of the Elder Wand from Draco Malfoy, and we steal it from Dumbledore's tomb."

"Well, this all sounds like quite a fun trip," Hermione scowled. She crossed her arms and stared out the bedroom window into the dark alleyway below. She knew Severus was right, of course. If they were going to bother sneaking to Hogsmeade to fetch and destroy the diadem, they needed to try to obtain the Elder Wand, too. Even if they weren't able to unite the Deathly Hallows, it was critical to keep the Elder Wand away from Voldemort.

So it was going to be necessary for Luna Lovegood to go into the Room of Requirement and get the diadem, and for her to take it to Othello Copperfield disguised in wrapping of some kind. And then Severus and Hermione would need to destroy the diadem, and be one step closer in chipping away at Voldemort's armor of immortality. Harry would need to Disarm Draco Malfoy somehow by sneaking into Hogwarts - a terrifying concept - in order to become the master of the Elder Wand. If he died in the process… well, that would be one more horcrux down.

That thought made Hermione want to vomit, and her breath shook as she glared out the window.

"We will discuss this with Potter in the morning," Severus said tightly. He did not joke with her anymore about how Harry and Ginny had probably heard her moaning. He stepped up behind her and put her hands upon her shoulders, and his voice was like honey to her as he said, "Come to bed. You are never good at knowing when you need to rest. But… Hermione, you need to rest."

* * *

It was still dark when Hermione pulled herself from the bed. Severus rolled over and made a gruff little sound, but he didn't wake. Hermione was careful to be quiet as she pulled on her fluffy scarlet robe and her worn old slippers. The door creaked a bit as she left the bedroom, but Severus just sniffed from the bed, and Hermione shut the door behind her.

" _Lumos,_ " she whispered, pattering down the stairs from the second floor by the eerie white light of her wand. She passed the first floor landing and kept going, landing with a cat-like spring on the carpet in the foyer on the ground level. Hermione was careful to stay quiet as she moved through the corridor, wary of setting off Mrs. Black's portrait or of knocking anything over. She paused outside the kitchen door when she realized there was a dim light around the doorway, and she hesitated at the sound of someone moving inside.

 _Nox_ , Hermione thought, and her wand went dark. She held it out, ready to strike in case whomever was in the kitchen was a dangerous intruder. She crept toward the kitchen door and carefully pushed it open, jabbing her wand about until it pointed toward the source of the noise.

"Harry," Hermione breathed with a measure of relief, lowering her wand as she stepped into the kitchen. Harry was sitting at the kitchen table, his head leaning heavily in his hands as a chipped mug steamed before him. He raised his emerald eyes to Hermione when she came in, and he mumbled,

"Hullo."

She realized at once that he was drunk, and she worriedly pulled herself into the bench opposite him at the table. She picked up his steaming mug and sniffed it, noticing a whiff of brandy among the aroma of lemon and honey.

"It's a hot toddy," Harry sniffed, pulling the mug back toward himself across the table. Hermione scowled and demanded quietly,

"It's five o'clock in the morning, Harry. Why are you sitting alone in the kitchen drunk?"

Harry raised the mug of warm brandy to his lips, but Hermione pulled it quickly away from him and Vanished it with her wand. Harry frowned deeply at the space where the drink had been, but then he licked his lips and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"For the past few months, I've been able to pretend Ron isn't dead," Harry confessed. "Sometimes I convince myself that he's off on some other mission, you know? Still fighting, like the rest of us. Sometimes I think… maybe he just got lost that day at the Ministry, and he'll show up. Other times I think he's still at Malfoy Manor, and we're going to go rescue him. But I never _really_ took the time to consider just how very, very gone Ron Weasley is, Hermione."

She was silent at that, though her breath shook in her nostrils as she thought about it. Ron had always been a silly boy. His head had always been filled with bludgers and fizzing whizbees. But he had also been very brave, and fiercely loyal. Hermione had more good memories with Ron and Harry than she had with anyone else in her life. Perhaps Severus had spent a good year with her, she thought, but she'd had six years with Harry and Ron before Severus had been a blip on her radar.

And Harry was right; Ron was _gone_. They would never see the way his face lit up with a crooked, toothy grin again. They would never hear him blather on about Quidditch again. They would never get to go on any more adventures together.

"Everything's different now, Harry," Hermione whispered. "We're meant to be at school. Dumbledore should be the Headmaster, and we should be seventh-year students at Hogwarts, shouldn't we? You, and me, and… and Ron."

She met Harry's eyes and stared at them for a long moment, seeing the young boy she'd met on the Hogwarts Express in them. She saw the boy who had gone down to the Chamber of Secrets, the boy who had competed in the Triwizard Tournament, the boy who had taught the entire D.A. how to form a corporeal Patronus. She saw their whole friendship in his green eyes.

Then she saw a violent flash of crimson in his eyes. It was so brief, so wild, that Hermione at first thought she'd imagined it. But she gasped at the sight, and Harry simultaneously clapped his hand to the lightning scar at his forehead and winced in pain. He wrenched his eyes shut and leaned down onto the wooden table. Hermione watched in horror, realizing at once that Voldemort had somehow 'come through' the disturbing connection he had with Harry.

Harry panted quietly and sat back up, and his eyes were green once more. His voice shook as he nodded at Hermione and said,

"I'll have to die, won't I?"

"I sincerely hope not, Harry," Hermione said honestly. She rose from the bench at the table, pulling her scarlet robe more tightly about herself. She moved about the kitchen fluidly, pulling ingredients from the cupboards and Transfiguring them as necessary as she prepared a batter for savory scones.

"Severus wants to discuss all of that with you this morning," she said as she flicked her wand at a bowl full of dry ingredients. The flour, sugar, salt, baking powder, and herbs whisked themselves together as Harry watched in amazement. Hermione turned to face him as the eggs began cracking themselves into the bowl. "It's all extremely complicated, and I fear that if I half-explain it now, it will only serve as an injustice. You'd do well to sober up a bit before he has that sort of conversation with you, though…"

She sighed and wished she had a vial of Severus' Nec Mora Arida potion for Harry. Instead, she was going to feed him scones, hoping that the food might speed up his absorption of the brandy he'd drunk. She added the cream to the batter and finished mixing it, and then she dropped it onto a baking sheet in little globules and cast a Baking Charm upon the sheet.

"That will take about five minutes," she mused, remembering the way that scones had taken a half hour to finish in her mother's Muggle oven. While the baking commenced, Hermione turned back to Harry and watched him drag his fingers through his messy black hair.

"You know, 'Mione, you could have been a bit quieter last night," Harry finally said, glaring up to Hermione. She felt her cheeks go hot, and she cleared her throat gently as she looked at the baking scones.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. She flicked non-existent lint from her robe and sniffed, "You know, it was a bit traumatizing for me to see you _actually fucking_ Ginny Weasley."

Harry snorted from the table, and when Hermione looked at him again, they both dissolved into quiet giggles. Hermione walked over to the table and sat down again as Harry gave her a tormented look.

"Really, though," he drawled, " _Snape?_ Of all people, 'Mione, why -"

"I can't properly explain it to you, Harry, because I readily do not expect you to be in love with Severus Snape." Hermione sighed as she glanced down to the ring on her finger. "He and I have quite a bit in common when it comes to intellectual interests. We share an easy rapport when we aren't trying to insult one another, as it turns out. And his hair isn't greasy. It's soft."

"Yeah, well… sounded like you were probably holding his hair awfully tight last night." Harry grimaced and looked a bit queasy, and Hermione laughed again.

"Are you in love with Ginny?" she asked seriously then, and Harry just shrugged.

"Why?"

"Because she's very much in love with you," Hermione told him, and Harry nodded.

"Yes. I love her," he said firmly. Hermione smiled gently.

"Good. Ron would have punched you for doing to his sister what I saw you doing. But you know what, Harry? If he'd stayed alive, some day he would have been the best man at a wedding between you and Ginny. You know that?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded once. "I know that. Smells like your scones are finished."

* * *

The conversation with Potter and Ginny Weasley about the Elder Wand went better than Severus had been expecting. It seemed as though Harry Potter was somewhat resigned to his fate as a sacrificial lamb. Survival would be a bonus to the boy; death was the default outcome. It was better, Severus thought, that Harry Potter approached all of this madness with that degree of realism. He probably _was_ going to die, so it was very helpful that the boy was prepared.

It was decided that Ginny Weasley and Hermione would stay at Grimmauld Place during the covert mission to Hogsmeade. If Luna Lovegood managed to get the diadem to Tomes and Scrolls, it would be Severus who would need to rendezvous with Othello Copperfield, and having two people there would only complicate the levels of disguise and deception needed.

They would go on a planned Hogsmeade weekend, when it was likely that Draco Malfoy would be in the village. Harry Potter would use his father's Invisibility Cloak and ambush Draco Malfoy, Disarming him. Then Severus and Potter would meet at the school's front gates and make their way to Dumbledore's tomb, where they would retrieve the Elder Wand. They would then use the _Oraverit_ to return to Grimmauld Place - Hermione and Ginny would have the other piece.

Once back at Grimmauld Place, Hermione would help destroy the diadem the way she'd done with the other horcruxes. Potter would test the Elder Wand's limits to see if he were its true master, and they would begin formulating plans to kill Nagini the snake.

All of this was the master plan, of course. It was all very dependent on each subsequent step going smoothly. It did not help, therefore, when the portrait of Phineas Nigellus clipped sharply,

"I have been informed by Phyllida Spore that Luna Lovegood is unavailable to assist you at the present time."

"Unavailable!" Harry Potter blurted from behind Severus. He whirled about and glared at the boy, and he watched Hermione and Ginny both squeeze Potter's elbows to shut him up. Severus turned back around to the portrait.

"Has something happened to Miss Lovegood?" he asked smoothly, and Phineas Nigellus said in an angry voice,

"It's the damned imposter, the one who goes about calling herself 'Headmistress.' Amycus Carrow. She has placed Luna Lovegood in 'solitary education' in the Dungeon Pit. Rumor has it that the poor girl has been there for over a week now, and that she is being subjected to all manner of terrors. It seems her father wrote a rather unseemly article suggesting that your disappearance was malevolent, Headmaster, and that he incriminated a great many volatile Death Eaters."

Severus felt his heart pounding as he realized just how grave matters had become at Hogwarts. Behind him, Ginny Weasley gasped quietly, and Hermione murmured,

"Severus, we have to go at once and -"

"Please tell Phyllida Spore that we appreciate her attempt to assist us," Severus nodded once to Phineas Nigellus. "There is nothing else that we need just now. Good day, Headmaster."

Severus turned and strode quickly from the bedroom, the three Gryffindors following him like anxious puppies. Severus bounded quickly down the stairs and did not stop moving until he was in the parlor. Then he paced anxiously and glared at the huddle of his former students. He looked at Hermione for a long moment and said,

"You and Miss Weasley will need to come, obviously."

"Yes," she nodded, her lips white.

"Potter… you will still attempt to intercept and Disarm Draco Malfoy."

"Use the Marauder's Map to find him, Harry," Hermione said, and Severus frowned as she and Harry seemed to both light up a bit at the mention of the item. He continued to Potter,

"You will then proceed to Dumbledore's tomb and take the Elder Wand."

Harry Potter nodded, and Severus' mind whirled as he turned to Ginny Weasley.

"Miss Weasley… you will proceed to the Room of Requirement and search for the diadem. When you have it, make your way back out to the front gates of the school, past the anti-Apparition Charms. You'll have the wyvern dagger, and you will destroy the diadem. Then you will Disapparate to Grimmauld Place; we can't take any chances of the horcrux disappearing, so you'll need to destroy it just outside the grounds of Hogwarts."

"I understand, Professor," Ginny Weasley nodded crisply. Severus turned to Hermione and felt his chest clutch as he tried to find the words to speak to her.

"You and I will go down to the Dungeon Pit and free Miss Lovegood," he told her, "and bring her back here. We will all need to practice Disillusionment Charms for the next few hours, of course, and… Hermione, there are a few enchantments in the castle that I'll make you aware of for our particular purposes."

Hermione nodded, her brown eyes glistening with tears as she asked, "When? When are we going?"

"Miss Lovegood is being held prisoner, it would seem, even as we speak," Severus noted. He glanced to the grandfather clock in the corridor and said, "It's eight-thirty. We can spend the next four hours preparing, I think, and then we need to go."

"Right," Hermione said stoutly. "Shall we begin with Disillusionment, then?"

* * *

 _Crack._

 _Crack - Crack - Crack!_

Hermione landed hard upon the ground, feeling cold mud under her knees. Severus' hand pulled gently at her elbow, and she rose to see Ginny and Harry helping one another up. She stared up at the looming figure of Hogwarts Castle. Many times now, she realized, she'd left this place for what had seemed like the last time. Somehow, fate had continued to bring her back here, though recently it had been only under the most inauspicious circumstances.

They were well outside the anti-Apparition wards, nestled at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hermione brushed a few twigs and leaves from the front of her woolen coat, listening as Harry asked Severus,

"You're quite certain we'll be able to just… walk in? I'm 'Undesirable Number One.' You two aren't much better. You think they won't have cast warning charms?"

"A Caterwauling Charm is certainly a real possibility," Severus nodded, "but is easily undone once we approach the perimeter. I am the legitimate headmaster of Hogwarts; the castle won't even let Amycus Carrow into the office. Yes, Potter, I think Hogwarts will let us inside."

Harry shrugged and turned to Hermione. "Be safe in there," he told her in a firm voice, and Hermione felt her eyes well. She remembered all the misadventures she'd had with Harry, with Ron, and she just shut her eyes and nodded.

"Remember, Potter," Severus said sharply, "Stay silent and hidden when you ambush Draco Malfoy. And do not Disarm him without a very clear escape route from wherever you are. Try to get him alone. Use a nonverbal spell. All that must happen is for you to 'conquer' him with magic. But do try not to get yourself killed or captured, will you?"

"Rather glad, if I'm honest, that you devoted so much attention to nonverbal duelling in our sixth year, Professor," Harry admitted to Severus. He frowned and looked to Hermione, jabbing his finger toward her. "She was always much better at it than Ron or me, of course, but… I think I'll be fine."

"You'll do well, Harry," Hermione reassured him.

Harry pulled out his Marauder's Map and unfolded it. Hermione had explained the map in full to Severus, who had long harbored suspicions about the thing, but had never fully understood it. There had been a time in their third year, Hermione knew, when this map had rather embarrassed Severus during a late-night interception of a misbehaving Harry. Hermione suspected that Harry's father and the other Marauders had actually gone so far as to charm the map to directly insult Severus, their arch-nemesis. Now Severus scowled as he watched Harry point his wand at the parchment and murmur,

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Ink began leaking up through the very pores of the parchment, spreading about in flourishes and whorls as words and footprints and diagrams appeared. Harry and Ginny stared at the map for a while, and then finally Ginny pointed to a spot and whispered,

"There he is. Draco's in the Transfiguration Corridor… now he's gone into the classroom. He's got lessons, no doubt. It's the middle of the afternoon."

"Well, I'll just have to wait for him to leave lessons and go back down to Slytherin Dungeon, I suppose," Harry shrugged. "I don't know what the seventh-year Slytherin lesson schedule looks like, though, so -"

"He will be finished with Transfiguration at one-thirty, after which time the seventh-year Slytherins traditionally eat a late lunch. Then, so long as Quidditch hasn't been cancelled, he'll be making his way out to the pitch. Seeing as it's a Tuesday, and the team practices at three o'clock on Tuesdays," Severus said in a bored voice. Hermione tried not to quirk up half her mouth. He _was_ the headmaster of the school. Of course he'd know the lessons schedules.

Harry looked mildly embarrassed, but nodded. He started to point his wand at the map again, but then Severus demanded sharply,

"Aren't you going to ensure that Miss Lovegood's location is accurate? She was reported as being in the Dungeon Pit. Would it be too much to ask of you, Potter, to use that damnable scrap of paper to _check_?"

Harry's mouth fell open, and he and Ginny stared in a bit of shock at Severus for a moment. But then Harry nodded quickly and began scanning the map with his eyes. It seemed to be taking a long while, and he started muttering that he couldn't find Luna on the map, so Severus snatched the map from Harry's hands and said,

"Let me see. Seven years at school and you can't even read a map of the place."

Hermione cringed when Severus took the Marauders' Map. She was fully prepared for ugly words about his hair or his nose to appear on the parchment. The last thing they needed just then was for Severus to remember how much he despised James Potter. Harry and Severus were unlikely allies, to be certain, but it was a partnership born of necessity. Hermione shut her eyes tightly, waiting for the fallout from Severus' rage. But then she heard him say in a surprisingly quiet tone,

"Here. Just here." Hermione watched as Severus pointed to a barely-moving icon in the Dungeons. In a tiny chamber adjacent to the Dungeon Pit, there appeared the name _Luna Lovegood._ Hermione could see on the map that she was being held just down the corridor from Severus' old office - from the rooms where she had lived with Severus. She felt queasy and dizzy, and she whispered,

"We need to go inside now."

Harry took the map back and muttered, "Mischief managed _,_ " tucking it away in the pocket of his robes as a solemn weight came over the group.

"Are there any further questions?" Severus asked, sounding very much like their teacher again. Hermione shook her head no, and Severus nodded crisply.

She watched as Harry and Ginny disappeared, blending seamlessly into the background as they Disillusioned themselves. Hermione followed suit, and Severus was the last to vanish. They trudged up toward the school gates, knocking blindly into one another from time to time. At one point, Hermione heard Severus' voice from beside her mumble,

" _Clangor Revelio… Finite Incantatem…"_

They passed so smoothly up the gravel path and into the entrance courtyard that Hermione knew Severus must have disabled any wards. Her heart thudded so insistently against her chest that she thought it would beat its way straight out onto the ground, and she struggled to breathe evenly.

"Miss Weasley - off you go to the Room of Requirement. Go around the east side of the castle and enter over there, then climb the back stairway that ascends all the way to the seventh floor."

"Right." Ginny's voice was stern with resolution, and Hermione could sense a wave of bravery coming from Ginny's shimmering, hidden silhouette. Somehow, it seemed, Ginny and Harry found one another despite their concealment, for Ginny's voice was barely audible as mumbled, "I'll see you soon, Harry."

Ginny's trotting footsteps left a procession of divots in the gravel as she made her way around the east side of the castle. Hermione clutched her wand more tightly, hoping with all her might that Ginny would find Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem in the Room of Requirement. She pressed onward with Severus and Harry, the three of them creeping into the cloisters and sneaking quietly alongside the exterior walls until they came to a wooden door covered in leafless vines.

" _Diminuendo_ ," Hermione whispered, pointing her wand at the vine-covered door. The brambles crumbled and sputtered as they shrank backward into themselves. Soon enough, the old wooden door was bared, and Hermione mumbled, " _Alohomora._ "

There was no response at all to that, and a derisive little snort came from beside Hermione as Severus said, "The exterior doors of this castle are locked with stronger spells than that, my dear."

Hermione felt her cheeks go hot, for Severus was making her feel foolish in front of Harry. But then she remembered just how often Severus had made both her and Harry feel foolish in front of each other, and she huffed quietly. She realized that Severus was giving her a moment to think of the right spell to unlock the door - only a moment, she knew, for they were not exactly here on holiday.

" _Avaamaanoven,_ " she said, flicking her wand in a triangular motion and uttering the ancient spell. It was one meant for stone doors and boulders blocking passageways. It did nothing at all. Hermione pursed her lips and said quickly, " _Bagilu._ _Agorydrws._ Agh… I don't know, Severus… _Reserare Viam!"_

There was a click then as the old wrought iron lock on the door gave way. It actually dissolved into thin air, and the aged door swung open quickly as though it weighed nothing at all. Hermione stared at the open doorway for a brief second, and then she heard Harry exclaim gently,

"Finally! I mean… er, good work, 'Mione."

Hermione scowled, hearing Severus chuckle beside her. She followed the men's footsteps into the castle and knew they were outside the West Wing. Her eyes took a moment to adjust from the bright sunlight to the dim, flickering light of the sconces on the walls. Once she did, Hermione recognized the interior of a winding old staircase. It was the same one, she knew, that she'd walked down with Severus long ago, the night of Slughorn's Christmas party. Hermione had been drunk and had stumbled into Severus' back as they descended this staircase, and he'd told her to remove her shoes. Hermione smirked at the memory of that. Then she heard Severus mumble,

"Hermione, we're going downstairs. Potter…?"

"Right. Malfoy. Then the Elder Wand. I'm off. Good luck to you both."

His footsteps scratched and pattered until they disappeared, and Hermione swallowed heavily as Severus prompted her,

"Down this way now."

It felt odd to be back in the castle. The last time Hermione had been inside Hogwarts, she'd had to flee with Severus at the drop of a hat. And for weeks before that, she'd been tormented by the new, dour air that hung about the place. But she'd also fallen in love with Severus here. She'd married him here. This was their home, perhaps more than any other place on Earth could ever hope to be. Hermione's eyes seared with unshed tears as she silently descended the stone stairs. At last she paused where she stood and whispered,

"Severus?" His footsteps quieted, and Hermione squinted to see the faint glimmer of his transparent silhouette as he paused on a stair. Hermione gripped her wand tightly in her hand, unsure of what to expect when she and Severus got downstairs. Rather impulsively, she begged him, "Kiss me once before we go down, will you?"

She saw nothing. Heard nothing. But then there was the warm, heady smell of him, and the feel of him pushing her very gently against the wall. Then his lips were pressing onto hers, and she could taste the comforting flavor of him in her mouth. She sighed and felt him flatten his body against hers for a brief moment, and then he pulled away.

"Let's go," Hermione whispered breathlessly, and down they went.

* * *

Severus had seen on Potter's map where exactly Luna Lovegood was being held. If the so-called Marauders - most of whom were now dead - had left themselves any halfway decent legacy, it might have been that map, he thought. Even though the thing had been cursed to mock him if he tried to use it. Severus could just see James Potter and Sirius Black, flush with satisfaction after crafting such a complicated piece of magical hardware.

" _Right. It works beautifully,_ " James Potter had probably said, " _but we must be certain that Snivelling Severus can never use it. It's advanced and functional, but we hate him… so we have to take extra, deliberate steps to ensure he can't use it._ "

The conversation might have gone ever-so-slightly differently, but not much. In any case, the blasted map had proven itself to be useful today. Harry Potter would be much more confident in cornering Draco Malfoy, since he was able to track the boy on the parchment. And Severus had been able to see that Luna Lovegood was in Dungeon Seventeen, an old and tiny disused classroom.

Now as he led Hermione down a dark, winding corridor in the dungeons, he held his wand out and was fully prepared for trouble. If the Carrows had gone through the hassle of trapping Luna Lovegood down here, they would have likely put up defenses to keep her stowed away. Of course, if something had come popping out of the darkness, Hermione and Severus wouldn't have known. It wasn't as though they could walk about with illuminated wands just now.

Finally they came into the more open space of the Dungeon Pit, and Severus dashed across the sprawling floor. He could hear the distant echoes of people talking and laughing, and he knew it was because they were down a corridor from the Potions classroom.

"Severus!" Hermione hissed suddenly from behind him, once they'd entered another narrow corridor. He whirled around, wishing he could see her as she moaned quietly. "Severus…"

Something was wrong. Severus looked about anxiously and saw that no one was within sight. He flicked his wand at Hermione and released her Disillusionment Charm, and then he felt his mouth fall open in horror. In the dim light of the wall sconces, Severus could see that Hermione had crumpled to the ground, her wand still resolutely clutched in her hand. All along her cheeks, down her neck and across the backs of her hands, Severus could see spreading black lines.

He recognized the curse as one he'd first seen just over a year ago. It had been a sick creation of Bellatrix Lestrange's, one she'd been too happy to show off at a Death Eater meeting. _Sanguis Denigrare -_ a blood-blackening curse. It would only work on Muggle-borns, Severus knew, and he realized that there must have been barriers set up throughout the castle to activate the curse on students who had fabricated bloodlines.

Hermione writhed a bit where she crouched, clutching at her face with one hand as she stifled a whimper. Severus gulped and pointed his wand at her, saying firmly,

" _Finite incantatem._ "

At once, it seemed, the terrible black threads along her skin vanished. But it took a moment longer for Hermione to stop shaking and crying, and at last she was able to stand with help from Severus. She leaned on his chest for a split second, and he thought he would have to support her. But then she growled firmly,

"We need to get Luna out of here. And we need to destroy _him_. We need to destroy all of this madness."

She pulled away from Severus and steeled herself visibly before swirling her wand about herself again. As she disappeared into her disguise, Severus asked gently,

"Are you quite all right to continue?"

"We haven't got time to discuss it now, Severus. Take me to Luna."

Severus felt a quiver of love for her at that. He also felt her anxiety, her fear and her pain rippling through their deep bond. He knew that Hermione was only feigning being all right. He knew that the _Sanguis Denigrare_ curse had caused her physical pain, and that she was deeply stressed. But she was pretending to be fine, because they needed to fetch Luna. Severus put his lips into a straight line as he continued down the dim corridor, determined to emulate Hermione's will.

Finally they neared the doorway outside Dungeon Seventeen. Severus stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed there were two fifth-year Slytherins outside the doorway. They were both Prefects. One was Quilp Selwyn, an old-money boy who had spent the last several years cozying up to Draco Malfoy and his thugs. The other 'guard' was Uriah Bulstrode, the younger brother of Millicent. He was just as stocky and dim-witted as his older sister.

Quilp and Uriah seemed to be discussing the recent victory of the Caerphilly Catapults over the Appleby Arrows. As Severus and Hermione stepped silently closer, the two boys continued chatting, paying no heed to the intruders.

"Apparently their Chasers have gotten really good this year; I dunno. I heard someone say that their shots-on-goal was higher than anyone else in the league, but that could just mean they've faced shit Keepers, you know?" Uriah Bulstrode shrugged his heavy shoulders, and Quilp Selwyn replied in a smooth murmur,

"Likely a shots-on-goal statistic indicates poor Keeping rather than good offense. But if the Arrows have a higher-than-average percentage of their shots on goal resulting in points… well, that, again, might mean poor Keeping. But it could also mean good skill in aim, evasive skills, and the like."

Uriah Bulstrode nodded but narrowed his eyes. Clearly the boy was too thick to really understand a damned thing about Quidditch, even when it was explained properly. Severus rolled his eyes and pointed his wand squarely at Uriah Bulstrode, then at Quilp Selwyn.

 _Confundo. Confundo._ He entranced them, one at a time, and watched their eyes glaze over a bit as their conversation quickly shifted. Instead of discussing Quidditch, they were suddenly talking about how they both wanted to go sit quietly in the Slytherin Dungeon and revise for an upcoming exam. Severus watched them go, knowing they'd forgotten all about guarding Dungeon Seventeen. Then he heard Hermione beside him trying a few spells on the door, until at last it unlocked and she whispered,

"Wands ready?"

Dungeon Seventeen was a long, narrow chamber with stone walls and a stone floor. The ceiling was a series of old gothic arches connected by little domed ceilings. Once, long ago, this space had been a classroom used to teach xylomancy, a type of divination that relied upon twigs. But the discipline had fallen out of favor, and even after moving the class to the North Tower, demand had dried up. Ever since, Dungeon Seventeen had sat vacant and waiting.

Now, as Severus moved into the dungeon with Hermione, he became acutely aware of its abandoned state. The dank smell of old moisture hung heavily in the chilled air, and it was black as pitch inside. For a brief moment, Severus thought Potter's old map had to have been wrong. Luna Lovegood couldn't be in here. But then he heard Hermione frantically say,

" _Lumos!"_

And there the girl was, lying still and quiet upon the ground. Severus' heart sank as he wondered whether Luna was dead. He still could not see Hermione, even in the ghostly light of her wand, but he watched Luna's body shake violently, and he knew Hermione was trying to rouse the girl.

"Luna!" Hermione said in a firm clip, "It's Hermione Granger. Please wake up, Luna… She's breathing, Severus, but… oh, I'm… I feel…"

Severus knew what she meant. He had a very sudden and profound urge to simply sit down, and so he did. He sat down right upon the stone floor of the room, even knowing that they were all in grave danger. Some distant corner of his mind screamed at him that they were under a curse, that he wasn't meant to sit down and be lazy just now. But the very tired part of Severus' mind blotted out the yelling bit, and he mumbled in a sleepy tone,

"Perhaps we ought to rest for a moment."

He heard Hermione yawn, and then she protested quietly, "No… Severus, we have to get Luna out… out of…"

Severus felt his eyelids close, and with no further pretense, he was asleep. His mind was gone from him, utterly lost to the quiet darkness that surrounded him. He had a pleasant little dream about Yorkshire pudding, and then he was being shaken rudely as a voice hissed from above him,

" _Get up,_ Professor Snape! _Now!_ "

Severus cracked his eyes, fully prepared to scold the rude voice above him. But then he saw the bespectacled face of Harry Potter looming above him, drenched in white light. On one side of Harry was the gaunt and sunken face of Luna Lovegood. On the other side was Hermione, looking alert and concerned.

"Severus, wake up," Hermione said, and Severus wrenched himself off the ground as though it were on fire. He looked about, trying to recalibrate where he was and what had happened. Hermione handed him his wand, which he'd apparently dropped, and Harry Potter said,

"Thank goodness I checked the map one more time before Disapparating. It had been over two hours since I'd seen you two last, and all three of your names were still in this room. I figured something terrible had happened, and I'm not afraid to die in any of this. So I admit I came barging down. You left the door wide open, and the force of the hex hit me halfway down the corridor."

"Hex." Severus nodded and felt sick as he realized what had happened. "A Piger Hex. Designed to incapacitate intruders and prisoners alike with a nearly-instant and overwhelming desire to sleep."

"Right. Well, I lifted the spell from ten meters away, and by the time I came in here, Hermione and Luna were already waking up. You, though, Professor…"

"It doesn't matter now," Hermione said, pinching her lips tightly. Severus felt a strange quiver of embarrassed confusion. What _exactly_ had happened before he'd awoken? But Hermione was right, of course; there was no time to worry on it now. Severus turned his attention to Luna Lovegood, whose eyes were significantly less cheerful than usual. Her pale skin looked downright sickly in the light of Potter's wand, and her ice-blonde hair fell about her face in mangled, dirty clumps. Luna coursed a sleeve over her eye and sighed as she said in a weary tone,

"Glad to see you're awake now, Professor. But if you don't mind, I should like to leave this room and go… well, just about anywhere else, really."

"Luna, you should walk with me under my Invisibility Cloak," Harry Potter was saying, and Hermione was binding herself into thin air again with a Disillusionment Charm. Severus would have made some meek effort to scold Harry Potter for taking such charge of the situation, but he couldn't. For one thing, his head was still vibrating with after-effects of the Piger Hex. And for another thing, the boy was seemingly in full control of himself and the chaos about them. So Severus just Disillusioned himself and led the group from Dungeon Seventeen, hissing over his shoulder at them to stay silent as they made their way out of the corridor.

The Dungeon Pit and the final corridor presented no resistance to their passing. But as they climbed the winding stone staircase, Severus felt a strange weight in his legs that he wasn't able to shake. Why, exactly, had the Piger Hex affected him so much more viscerally than it had done to the others?

About halfway up the stairs, Severus answered his own question by remembering a passage from a book called _Perchance to Dream: Spells and Potions of Somnolence._ In the book, it had been explained that most sleep-related potions' and spells' effects were dose-related, and that this obviously meant safety concerns with dosing. But there had been something else in the book, too.

 _The Piger Hex is frequently employed by Dark witches and wizards who seek to use sleep as a method of control. The Hex may be used as a defense system to protect a valuable item, or it may be used to trap criminals in the location of their crime. The effects of the Piger Hex vary greatly depending upon the subject's age, with the most notable variable being how easy it is to lift the spell. In an infant, the Hex does not have any effect whatsoever. But with each passing year, the Piger Hex feels heavier and is harder to lift from victims._

So Severus had been so quickly incapacitated, and apparently difficult to wake, because he was old. It was as simple as that. But as Severus pulled his sore muscles up the winding stone stairs, he knew they had no time now to think about such matters.

Somehow, they flung themselves out of the little wooden door near the cloisters. They dashed across the gravel of the Entrance Courtyard and down the winding pathway toward the Forbidden Forest. Severus' lungs burned as he ran, surrounded only by the thudding sound of the others' footsteps. At last they reached the edge of the forest and delved into the darkness. Severus watched Harry Potter appear in the middle of the air as he whipped the Invisibility Cloak from himself and Luna Lovegood. Severus and Hermione released their own Disillusionment Charms.

"Have you go the Elder Wand?" Severus asked brusquely, and Potter pulled something from the inside pocket of his robe. It was the long, knobby wand Severus had always seen Dumbledore use. For decades, Severus had assumed it was the wand Dumbledore had received as a child. But, apparently, this wand was much more than that.

"I am its master now," Potter nodded, tucking the wand away. "I can feel it when I hold it. I managed to Disarm Malfoy out by the Quidditch Pitch. I Disarmed him, and then I instantly Confounded him into simply picking up his wand and proceeding onward."

"Hmm. Well. That all sounds… that sounds as though it went precisely according to plan," Severus nodded. Potter frowned at Severus as if to make a point, and he said,

"I saw Ginny's name disappear from the map. She's already Disapparated, hopefully back to Grimmauld Place. Hopefully she has the diadem."

Severus just nodded again and turned to Luna Lovegood. Out here in the twilight, Luna's face looked drawn and tired, but she quirked up a miserable little smile when Severus turned to stare at her.

"Thank you all so much for coming to rescue me. Although, I must say, it sounds as though you had an awful lot of other things to do while you were here. I very much look forward to hearing all about those other things… somewhere far away. I find I don't especially want to be here anymore, if it's quite all right."

"Luna, do you feel well enough to Disapparate?" Hermione asked cautiously. It was a fair question, Severus thought. Disapparating under duress could lead to Splinching, and that was scarcely a concern they needed to bear just now. Luna tipped her head to the side and said,

"I'm far more confident in your Apparition abilities than my own, Hermione," she admitted. "I've only just started my training this past autumn, and I wouldn't be eligible for my exam until February. Although, I can't see as how the Carrows would have let me take any such exam. They weren't even letting me take school exams." She sighed lightly, her pale eyes glistening a bit as she took Hermione's arm and laced it with her own. "I'll be just fine doing Side-Along Apparition with you, Madam Granger."

Severus felt his chest tighten with unexpected emotion at that, at hearing Luna call Hermione "Madam Granger." It was at once a married title and Hermione's own name. Luna Lovegood, more so than just about anyone else, would intuitively know what title made Hermione comfortable. Indeed, Hermione quirked up a small smile and patted Luna's elbow. She turned to Harry Potter and said,

"Let's go find out about Ginny, then, shall we?" When Potter nodded, Hermione turned to Severus and smiled.

"See?" she teased. "This wasn't so bad, after all. Grimmauld Place. I'll see you there."

Severus gave her a solemn nod, and he stepped backward a bit to make space for her. She tightened her grip on Luna Lovegood's arm, and the blonde girl squeezed her eyes shut in preparation. Hermione whirled hard to her right where she stood, and then the two girls vanished in a swirling blur of color.

Severus was left standing alone with Harry Potter, and he decided to take full advantage of the fact that no one could hear what he was about to say. He stared directly at a tree trunk ahead of him, pretending to study its bark. Then he said in a tight murmur,

"Potter, I confess I have spent the last seven years treating you as a troublesome miniature of your father. In my life, you see, James Potter was anything but a friend, and so to directly encounter his progeny was not something I eagerly anticipated. But you ought to know that, today most especially, I see far more of your mother Lily in you than your father."

Severus turned to Harry Potter, who was giving Severus a conflicted look. Severus bowed his face and said in a conciliatory tone,

"Oh, yes. James Potter will always be an untouchable saint to you, because you never really knew him. And it is very, very easy to venerate those whose lives never sting us directly. I won't combat you on the virtues, or lack thereof, of your paternal side, Potter. But what I will tell you is that you had a mother who was brave, and kind, and intelligent. And, today most especially, I saw quite a bit of her in you. That's all I mean to say about it, and we shan't speak of it again. Go ahead, now. Go on to Grimmauld Place."

Harry Potter stared at Severus in shocked silence for so long that Severus huffed out an impatient sigh and prepared to scold him again. But then Potter gulped and nodded, and he pulled the iron pendant out from under his shirt collar. Severus knew that Hermione had the pocket-watch with her, hopefully in the safety of 12 Grimmauld Place. He watched Harry Potter squeeze the iron pendant in his hand, and then the boy said,

"Right. See you there, Professor. _Oraverit!"_

With a quiet crack and a blip of darkness, Harry Potter disappeared from the edge of the forest, and Severus stood alone for three deep breaths. Then he shut his eyes and thought of the house on Grimmauld Place, and he whirled hard to his right.


	5. Chapter 5

"Ginny?"

Hermione could hear the worry in Harry's voice the moment he came barging through the front door of Grimmauld Place. He slammed the door shut behind him and ignored Hermione and Luna in the corridor as he called again,

"Ginny?"

She appeared then, looking worn and tired, from where she sat on the stairs. The moment Ginny and Harry saw one another, they merged into one tangled being. Ginny threw her arms around Harry's neck and squeezed tightly, and for the first time in as long as Hermione could remember, Ginny Weasley cried. Her back heaved as she suddenly dissolved into tears on Harry's shoulder. There were countless emotions wrapped up in Ginny's crying, Hermione knew. She missed her brother. She'd been terrified for Harry. Even so, it was startling to see the usually-stoic Ginny so thoroughly collapse.

"Hermione, have you got any tea?" Luna Lovegood asked gently from beside Hermione. It was a graceful means of leaving Harry and Ginny alone in the front corridor. Hermione figured they could debrief the trip to Hogwarts once everyone had calibrated their emotions. So she just nodded to Luna, paying no attention to the sound of the front door opening and shutting again as Severus walked into the house.

In the kitchen, Hermione's hands shook as she filled a kettle with water and set it to boiling. She dropped a tea bag into three separate cups as Luna settled into a bench at the table with a heavy sigh.

"What is this place?" Luna asked lightly, and Hermione heard Severus' footsteps at the kitchen doorway as she answered Luna.

"This is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "It's the ancestral home of the Black family. Professor Dumbledore and his allies used this place to meet and discuss matters related to defeating Vo… _him_."

She nearly broke the taboo, catching herself before it was too late. She began pouring hot water into the tea cups and sniffed. Behind her, Luna made a little sound of assent. Then Severus' dark voice said from the doorway,

"Miss Lovegood, I do not mean to break straight into interrogation, but it would be helpful if you could tell us how it is you found yourself in Dungeon Seventeen."

Hermione stared down at one of the cups, watching the inky swirling in the water as the tea steeped. She heard Luna sigh, and then the girl said,

"Well, Professor, my father's newspaper printed an article recently to which the Professors Carrow took exception. I was called into their office one day, and when they pushed a copy of _The Quibbler_ at me and demanded an explanation, I thought perhaps they were skeptics about the urgent situation of Norwegian lake selmas. There are many who don't even think the selmas exist, you know, much less that they're in grave danger of extinction. My father's articles on the matter have been -"

"Miss Lovegood," Severus interrupted sharply, and Hermione turned around to see him cross his arms over his chest as he loomed over the table. Luna nodded and licked her lips carefully.

"As it turns out, sir, the Carrows weren't concerned at all with lake selmas. They handed me a copy of _The Quibbler_ with a different headline. _HOGWARTS HEADMASTER ABDUCTED BY DEATH EATERS,_ it said. And, do you know, sir… my father wrote that article because that's what he believed. And I did, too. One day you and Hermione were at the school, and the next day you weren't. I knew just enough to think something awful had happened. Well, as it turns out, the Carrows didn't want to hear that theory. They didn't want to read their friends' names in _The Quibbler_ as possible suspects in your disappearance. So Professor Amycus Carrow told me that I would be put in the dungeons until my father learned to be quiet."

"And… how long were you there?" Hermione asked carefully. She watched Luna's pale eyebrows crumple as she seemed to be thinking very hard, and then Luna asked,

"Well, what day is it today?"

"The tenth of January," Severus answered briskly. Luna nodded and gave a sad little smile.

"Eight days, then," she answered, and Hermione felt a spike of horror crash down her spine at the thought of that. Then she remembered the way Luna had been curled up in sleep when they'd found her, and she remembered the awful Piger Hex that had been cast upon Dungeon Seventeen. Hermione wondered whether Luna had been sleeping all that while, and she asked,

"Are you hungry, Luna?"

"Do you know, I am _very_ hungry," Luna nodded. "Have you got something to eat? Chestnuts, perhaps? I have quite the fondness for chestnuts. Boiled or roasted; it doesn't matter much to me."

A half hour later, Hermione had managed to Transfigure a tin of beans into chestnuts for Luna, and she and the Ravenclaw girl and Severus had sucked down two cups of tea each. Finally, the kitchen door swung open and Harry and Ginny came walking it, both of them a bit red-cheeked. Hermione tried not to smirk as she wondered just where Harry and Ginny had been all this while. Instead, she made the two of them tea, as well, and soon there were five at the table.

Harry spent ten minutes explaining how he'd cornered Draco Malfoy, how he'd made his way out to Dumbledore's tomb and had felt profound disgust and discomfort at taking the Elder Wand off of Dumbledore's body.

"Cracking open his grave like that," Harry said, blinking slowly at staring into his tea, "Seeing him look as though he were just sleeping… and then _taking his wand…_ it was all a bit much. It's something I'd be more than happy to have Obliviated from my mind entirely."

Hermione wished she could do that for Harry. But she had heard far too many horror stories about Obliviations gone wrong after being poorly performed, and she pinched her lips. Ginny took Harry's hand in hers and squeezed it.

"Professor Dumbledore would have wanted you to have the Elder Wand, Harry," Ginny assured him, "No matter what getting it involved."

"So, Miss Weasley," Severus interjected tightly, "Have you got the diadem?"

Ginny nodded once. She reached into Hermione's Expanded bag, which she wore at her hip after Hermione had urged her to take it to Hogwarts 'just in case.' Ginny rifled around in the bag, seemingly working her way past all of Hermione's belongings. Then, at last, she pulled out a dark silver crown and placed it on the table.

Hermione stared at the diadem for a long moment, far too frightened by the horcrux to touch it. The diadem reflected the light dully from its tarnished surface, but the sapphire in its center glistened brightly. Hermione swallowed heavily as Severus and Harry took turns explaining to Luna just what the diadem's significance was. Voldemort had created horcruxes, they'd explained. They'd told her of how he'd split his soul to avoid death, and Luna giggled quietly. Severus scowled at the girl as if she were quite mad, but Luna said,

"Well, it's rather childish, isn't it? To destroy one's soul, over and over, just to stay alive? That's an ambition that comes from feeling very afraid, I should think. It's silly, and it's childish, but in a way I think I feel rather sorry for him. To feel as though these horcruxes are the answer to his problems."

Now it was Ginny who stared in open-mouthed surprise at Luna. Before Ginny could interrogate Luna on feeling 'sorry for Voldemort,' Hermione cut in.

"So, we have managed to destroy several horcruxes already. Helga Hufflepuff's cup, Tom Riddle's old diary, which was destroyed years ago…" Hermione flicked her eyes to Ginny for a brief moment and watched the other girl color. Then Hermione looked back to Luna and added, "A locket."

"And a ring," Severus said abruptly. Hermione frowned and shrugged across the table at him. She certainly did not remember destroying any rings. Severus sipped at his tea and set it down, dragging his fingers through his hair and looking very tired. Hermione noticed a few grey strands in Severus' hair as he touched it. She had never noticed his hair greying before, but she could certainly see how all of this was wearing on him. Severus sighed and said, "Albus Dumbledore obtained a ring that once belonged to the Gaunt family… to the Dark Lord's family. He put it on, rather foolishly, and the ring cursed his flesh so severely that he would have died within weeks of putting the ring on. I made him a potion to stave off the curse, but Dumbledore knew he was dying. He insisted that I kill him, to protect Draco Malfoy. He knew the ring's curse was killing him. He destroyed it - smashed the stone - and I now firmly believe that ring was a horcrux."

Hermione felt her heart pounding as she took in all that Severus had said. Her lips felt dry and cold as she looked about the table. Harry and Ginny were wide-eyed as they processed it all, but Luna looked utterly serene.

"What did the ring look like?" she asked curiously, and Severus sniffed as he shot back,

"What difference does that make?"

"Oh, it's just… the Gaunt family has long been rumored to be descended from the Peverell family, you see. The ones from the Tale of the Three Brothers? My father once told me that the Gaunt family possessed an heirloom ring with an ugly black stone, and that the stone inside was the Resurrection Stone from the story." She laughed gently and sipped at her own tea, and then she shrugged and said in an apologetic voice, "I suppose my father does say strange things from time to time."

Severus still scowled across the table at Luna, and Hermione flicked her eyes back and forth between the two of them as she waited for Severus to speak. At last he mumbled,

"Potter, was Dumbledore wearing a ring in his tomb?"

"Erm… I wasn't exactly examining his fingers," Harry admitted. "I didn't see a ring."

"Is it the Resurrection Stone, Severus?" Hermione asked firmly. She could feel tension radiating toward her through the bond she shared with Severus, and she watched him nod tightly.

"Yes, I believe it probably is." Severus glared down at the diadem on the table, prodding it with his wand as he asked Hermione, "Have you got the wyvern dagger?"

"The wyvern dagger? The one I gave you?" Luna asked, and her voice was practically cheerful. "Oh, I'm so glad you've found a good use for it outside the Potions classroom!"

Hermione tried to smile at Luna, but it came out as a grimace. She took her Expanded bag back from Ginny and began searching through it as Severus said in a stiff voice,

"Miss Lovegood, may I ask where it is that _you_ obtained the wyvern dagger? And why it was that you felt compelled to gift it to Hermione?"

Inside her bag, Hermione's hand closed around the handle of the wyvern dagger. She froze when she heard Luna answer smoothly,

"I received the dagger as a gift from my Uncle Caliban. He was an Auror, you know, and he was killed this last year under very mysterious circumstances. In his will, my Uncle Caliban left the dagger to me. He left a note in which he told me that he himself had obtained the dagger through less-than-honorable means. He gave me firm instructions to pass the dagger along to 'someone who will make honorable use of it.' Oh, and he specifically requested that the dagger make its way back to one Severus Snape. So I gave it to Hermione! I hope I've fulfilled my Uncle Caliban's instructions. He was always a very kind person."

"You did the right thing, Luna," Hermione insisted, feeling dizzy as she pulled the dagger from her bag. The wyvern blade glistened in the dim light of the kitchen, and Ginny Weasley asked skeptically,

"You're going to destroy the horcrux with _that_?"

"Wyvern scales are enormously powerful, Miss Weasley. You would know that, if you'd paid attention in Potions during your third year." Severus sniffed and did not look at Ginny, but the red-haired girl scowled deeply at her old teacher.

"Right," Hermione sighed, closing her fingers more carefully around the handle of the dagger. "Everyone… move toward the walls, just in case."

"Shall I do it, Hermione?" Severus asked quietly. He stood and gave Hermione a meaningful look as her old friends moved carefully toward the edges of the kitchen. Hermione looked back at him, at his dark and sorrowful eyes, but she shook her head.

"I'll do it," she murmured. Severus nodded and pursed his lips, and he tugged at the hem of his tailored frock coat to straighten it as he moved away from the table.

" _Protego,_ " she heard Severus murmur, and she watched him flick his wand in an arc in front of Harry, Ginny, and Luna. Hermione felt an aching love for him in that moment, but she turned her attentions back to the dagger and the diadem.

"Right," she said again, her voice shaking as she hovered the dagger a few inches above the diadem. "Three… two… one…"

It was just like the other times; the blade of the wyvern dagger sliced straight through the diadem's metal as though it were made of butter. A great gash of a wound appeared at once in the tarnished silver, and Hermione suddenly felt overwhelmed by an awful sense of fear.

She felt as though there were insects beneath her skin, and she was momentarily distracted from the diadem by the sensation. She clawed for a brief moment at her flesh, and then the fear transformed into an odd sensation that she were completely alone in the world and that no one loved her. The fear shifted and morphed quickly into a paranoid anxiety, then into a whirling, banging sense of being overwhelmed.

Hermione fought through the fear, knowing that the horcrux had been protected with defensive curses. Whatever curse Tom Riddle had placed upon the diadem was making her feel deep fear in an attempt to keep her away. But Hermione knew she had no choice but destroy the horcrux. She pulled the wyvern dagger up into the air and sliced it downward again. For what felt like an eternity, she hacked and stabbed at the diadem. All the while, she was completely overpowered by the sickening fear. Insects beneath her skin, the distinct feeling that Death Eaters waited just outside the kitchen. The vivid image of her parents being tortured to death, and a sort of hallucination of Severus being dismembered.

Somehow, Hermione staved it all off, all the awful thoughts and feelings, and just kept bringing the dagger down onto the diadem. Over and over she struck, until she felt herself being pulled away by a strong set of arms. She nearly turned and stabbed the dagger at whomever was holding her, but she realized the dagger was no longer in her hands. The fear dissipated, almost at once, and Hermione was left feeling empty and confused as she heaved and hiccupped with sobs.

She was on the floor of the kitchen, she thought distantly. Severus was cradling her against his chest. She could smell him, could feel him. She could hear him murmuring into her ear, chanting her name like a prayer as he stroked at her hair.

Hermione felt exhausted then, and as she opened her eyes and looked about with embarrassment, she did not see Harry, or Ginny, or Luna. She raised her sodden eyes to Severus' face and asked in a cracked whisper,

"What happened?"

Severus stared down at Hermione, his black eyes flashing. "I could feel your fear," he told her, and she knew he must be telling the truth. Their bond of Magnum Verbum Honoris transmitted strong emotions like fear very clearly. Severus kissed Hermione's forehead and continued, "It was terrifying, to feel the little bit of it that I did. The diadem was clearly destroyed halfway through your rampage. Miss Lovegood Banished the dagger safely across the room and I sent the three of them upstairs to wait while you…"

 _While you come to your damned senses._ That's what he'd meant to say, Hermione knew. She shut her eyes and shook her head firmly.

"The diadem was cursed," she began, but Severus interjected,

"That was obvious. You need to sleep, Hermione. If the fear I experienced was even a tenth of what…" He sounded very angry then, and he said in a hiss, "I should have done it. I should not have allowed you to put yourself at risk. I'm sorry."

Hermione frowned at him, wondering whether he was sore where he sat on the floor. But she shook her head and said, "It wouldn't have been any better. Can you pass me my bag?"

Severus heaved himself from the ground and helped Hermione to her shaking feet. She looked about and found her wand, tucking it safely away and studying the ruins of the diadem on the worn wooden table. Severus had been right; the diadem was obviously ruined. It was now a smoldering twist of deformed metal; the blue sapphire had cracked into a thousand shards that lay like vibrant dust around the mess.

" _Evanesco,_ " Hermione whispered, holding up her hand and pushing her magic forth from her throat. She was almost too tired for wandless magic, and the spell quivered in her palm for a moment before hurtling forward. Then the pile of destroyed metal and the dust of the sapphire Vanished into nonbeing. Then Hermione knew beyond any doubt whatsoever that the horcrux had indeed been destroyed.

She looked to where Severus stood holding her Expanded bag, and she mumbled, "There's a bottle of Invigoration Draught in there. Give it to me, will you?"

Severus hesitated, and he shifted on his feet. "Invigoration Draught?" he repeated skeptically. "I should think you'd want something to help you sleep."

"No." Hermione shook her head and stared at Severus. Her entire body felt heavy and sore, and she asked again, "May I have the Invigoration Draught, please?"

Severus cocked an eyebrow at her and rifled around the bag for a moment until he pulled out a small green phial. He held it out to her, and Hermione took it with a grateful nod. She uncorked the phial and tipped the sickly sweet mixture back, swallowing and closing her eyes.

* * *

The sight of Hermione overcome with fear, blinded by her violent stabbing of the diadem, had troubled Severus more deeply than anything he'd ever seen. He had beheld tortures and murders. He had been witness to all manner of injustice and tragedy. But the sight and feel of his wife as she destroyed the diadem had struck him straight through.

Now he watched Hermione drink an Invigoration Draught, and he wondered again why that had been the potion she'd wanted. She should be upstairs in their bed, Severus thought, with her mind cleared by a good dose of Dreamless Sleep.

Instead, she had begun bouncing on the balls of her feet a bit, and she smiled warmly as she turned to Severus.

"Much better," she said bravely. He knew full well that this was all the Hermione Granger Method of Pretending to Be Fine. So he pinched his lips tightly and took the empty phial back from her. He tucked it away in the bag and said,

"I think we all need to relax the remainder of the day. I told Potter and Miss Weasley and Miss Lovegood to find something to amuse themselves upstairs."

"There are a games in a wardrobe on the third floor," Hermione said, and her voice was now a bit breathless with energy. "Wizard's chess, and Gobstones, tarot and playing cards… I'm sure they're up there having a wonderful time together."

She nodded vigorously, and Severus thought that she should not have drunk the entire vial of Invigoration Draught. It had been too much, he thought, and he sighed as he asked her,

"Perhaps you ought to go up there with them. It seems you now possess abundant energy that requires an outlet."

He realized almost immediately that he'd spoken to her as though she were a daft first-year student, but Hermione did not seem angry. She shrugged and shivered a bit as she said,

"No. I don't want to play Gobstones. Nor wizard's chess. Ron… Ron used to love wizard's chess, you know." Suddenly her pretty brown eyes glistened, and she trembled a bit as she whispered, "Oh, God. Severus, please kiss me. Make it go all go away, will you? Kiss me."

He knew that it had all hit her then, the weight of what her life had become. And Severus knew there was nothing more he could do for that. He flicked his wand at the kitchen door and muttered a quick _Colloportus._ The lock on the kitchen door clicked, and Severus set his wand on the kitchen table as he felt a determination course through him. He could not erase Hermione's pain, nor her fear. But he could, at the very least, help her burn off the excess effects of the Invigoration Draught. And he would do it in such a way that, even if for just a moment, Hermione forgot how miserable and frightened she was.

He seized her by the shoulders and backed her up against the larder door. Hermione let out a soft _oof_ when her back crashed against the door, but Severus silenced her by pushing his mouth down hard against hers. She _had_ asked him to kiss her, after all. And today, he reckoned, they both needed this. Badly.

She tasted sweet and warm when Severus plunged his tongue between her lips. He could smell the earth on her, probably from when she'd landed in the forest outside Hogwarts hours earlier. He tangled his fingers in her messy curls and massaged at her scalp as he kissed her, and she squealed into his mouth. Her hands flew to Severus' chest, and her fingers began flying down his front as she worked at the buttons.

For a brief moment, Severus considered how easily a Locking Spell was undone with a simple _Alohomora._ He thought about pulling away from Hermione and insisting that she go play cards upstairs with her friends. But he didn't; he let her push his cloak and jacket off of him instead. He shook his arms from the sleeves and wriggled until the heavy material fell to the floor in a heap. Hermione's little hands were cold on his skin as they coursed around his chest and back, and Severus shivered.

 _Calefiant,_ he thought firmly, seizing her hands in his, and her skin warmed instantly at his touch. The magic that flowed between his skin and hers was so powerful then, as it mingled with their bond, that Severus felt his knees nearly give out. He jammed Hermione harder against the larder door with his hip, and she huffed quietly as he began to grind against her. He rubbed his thigh carefully between her legs, twisting slowly and pushing so that her womanhood was massaged even through her denims.

Hermione wrenched her eyes shut and squeezed Severus' hands more tightly, and her bottom lip shook a bit. Severus watched her closely as he used his thigh to stimulate her. Her skin was like fresh milk, except for the dusting of pale freckles that danced across her nose and cheekbones. Her lips were the color of fresh peaches. Severus knew they tasted even better than peaches, though, and he kissed her to remind himself of that. He was right. She was delicious.

Hermione sighed onto Severus' lips, and her hands moved desperately between the two of them. He felt her fingers nimbly working the buttons on his trousers, and then he heard the zipper on her denims scraping as she pulled it down. He swept his own hand beneath the hem of Hermione's sweatshirt, his fingers grazing up her soft belly until he cupped her breast in his palm. He squeezed her through her bra, and Hermione squirmed up against the door. Finally she yanked her mouth away from Severus and whispered breathlessly,

"Table… table. Please."

Severus could not help but smirk at her nearly-incoherent state. He'd worked her into a proper frenzy, it seemed. He stepped away from her and watched her writhe out of her denims and pull her sweatshirt over her head. She moved quickly, her cheeks pink and her breath quivering between her parted lips as she did. Severus suppressed a throaty sound of want for her as she popped off her bra. Instead, he kicked off his own boots and trousers.

He realized with a distant twinge of humiliation just what was happening. He was about to bend Hermione over the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place and fuck her senseless, all while three other young Gryffindors waited (doubtlessly concerned about Hermione) upstairs. For some reason, the thought of making Harry Potter uncomfortable only served to bolster Severus' confident happiness.

He put his hands on Hermione's waist and guided her toward the table, pausing for a moment to drift his fingers between her thighs. He touched the pads of his fingers to her nub and she gasped, clutching anxiously at Severus' shoulders. Her eyes shone wildly as he touched her, and she mumbled in a helpless voice,

"Take me now, Severus. I need… I… _please_."

A niggling corner of Severus' mind thought that the old kitchen table would give Hermione's naked body splinters. So he snatched his wand from the wood and pointed it at the surface of the table, whispering, " _Lenireligno._ "

The table shivered for a moment as the wood sanded itself, and Severus put his wand back down and turned to Hermione.

"Lie down on your back," he instructed her, jabbing his chin toward the table. She obeyed, backing up against the wood and scooting up onto it. He held fast to her hips with one hand, clutching his throbbing cock in the other. He watched her lean backward until she was lying flat on the table, and then Severus wrenched Hermione's hips nearer to the edge. He stared down at her, taking in the beautiful curve of her waist. He studied the soft mounds of her small but round breasts, the way her back arched a bit in anticipation. Severus was nearly overwhelmed by how badly he wanted her, and he thought it was much better than the fear that had overtaken them both as Hermione had destroyed the diadem.

He guided the tip of his member toward her sodden entrance and used his thumb to trace circles on her as he pushed slowly into her body. Hermione moaned rather loudly, and Severus hoped that her old friends had situated themselves far enough away not to hear. But then he found he didn't care at all about who heard Hermione's sounds of pleasure. All he cared about was the snug feeling of her wet tightness around him, and he grunted softly as he pulled out of her and pushed in again.

Hermione's knees held fast to his waist, and Severus stroked the outside of Hermione's thigh with one hand while he fondled her womanhood with the other. He felt the grind of his own thrusts on his fingers as he touched her, and this only spurred him onward.

"Fucking hell, Hermione," he whispered, rather against his will. Hermione's hands clutched helplessly at the table, then reached up to nestle tightly in her own hair. She wrenched her eyes shut as if she were in pain, and she squealed and arched her back a bit further. Severus rubbed her harder, quickened the pace of his bucking hips, and then she fell off the cliff. Her pleasure rolled off of her in waves, transmitting directly to Severus through their intense bond. He nearly lost himself at the feel of her clenching around him, at the sound of her crying his name.

"I love you," Severus whispered, knowing she was too deep in her own climax to hear him.

Severus let her finish, watched her gasp and smile, and then he bucked hard against her a few times as his own pleasure coiled and burst. He jammed her hip tightly against his own as his seed volleyed forth, and he groaned loudly through clenched teeth. He collapsed down over her on the table, his hands smacking the wood as he hovered over her body.

At some point, the heat and the throbbing were gone, along with the intense pleasure. Severus pulled himself from Hermione, fumbling for his wand to clean them up. He helped Hermione heave herself from the table, and he passed her her clothes one piece at a time from the floor. They dressed in silence, and as Severus finished buttoning his frock coat, he heard Hermione say hoarsely,

"The ring. Dumbledore's ring; do you really think -"

"It is the Gaunt family ring, from what I understand," Severus corrected her, adjusting his cravat about his neck as Hermione nodded. Severus continued, "Yes. I do think it is the Resurrection Stone. I had never considered such a thing, but it all makes perfect sense now. How it is that Xenophilius Lovegood came to believe such a thing about the ring, and why it is that Caliban Lovegood left the wyvern dagger so deliberately behind when he died… all of that is, as of yet, very mysterious to me. But our immediate concern should be on destroying horcruxes and uniting Hallows."

Hermione nodded again, looking determined. She was still trembling a bit, but it seemed that the excess energy from the Invigorating Draught had been thoroughly drained of her. Now she seemed caught somewhere between steely resolve and tearful despair. Severus caught her face in his hands and stared at her honey-colored eyes for a long moment.

"Of all the 'brave Gryffindors' in the world, Hermione Granger, you are by far the bravest. Never doubt that."

Hermione's eyes shimmered with tears, but her throat bobbed and she nodded as Severus planted a kiss upon her forehead. He reached down to pick her wand up from where it had clattered to the floor, and he closed her fingers around it. Then he kissed her cheek and murmured,

"Now, get upstairs at once and play a few rounds of Gobstones, will you?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Hermione said, and she slid off the table.

* * *

"Erm… and then I think it's just this… _Fieri Fusilli._ " Hermione jabbed her wand toward the bowl before her, into which she had emptied a tin of bland white beans. She curled her wand into a long loop as she incanted the spell she read off a page in a book of cooking spells. The beans shivered and shook for a moment, and then they began to Transfigure themselves into fusilli noodles.

Beside Hermione, Luna Lovegood made a satisfied sound, and she nodded and said, "Well done, Hermione! I always did prefer the curly noodles to spaghetti."

"Well, good," Hermione sighed, "Because there's no spell in this book for any other sort of noodle, anyway."

 _CRACK!_

Hermione startled as the air before her shuddered with the sudden arrival of someone via Apparition. She immediately clutched her wand more tightly, for she was not at all expecting anyone to land in the kitchen of Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

She nearly dropped the book she was holding when she realized it was Kreacher the house-elf who'd appeared in the kitchen. Beside her, Luna Lovegood said serenely,

"Oh! It's a house-elf. Hello, there, sir."

Kreacher ignored Luna, staring directly at Hermione. She narrowed her eyes, her heart still thudding in her chest. She set down the book of cooking spells and caught her breath. They'd not seen nor heard from Kreacher since coming to Grimmauld Place. Hermione had been wondering distantly what had become of the house-elf, but now he stood in the kitchen scowling and clutching a small parcel in his stick-thin arms.

"Kreacher heard the Mudblood in the kitchen a few days past... in the throes of passion," the house-elf croaked matter-of factly. Luna gasped quietly beside Hermione and said indignantly,

"You ought not use that word with her, sir! It's really -"

"It's all right, Luna," Hermione said gently, putting her fingers on Luna's elbow. She knew that Kreacher had been taught hatred by his old family. She turned back to the house-elf and said in a conciliatory tone, "I'm sorry if I… erm, if I bothered you, Kreacher. Was there something you needed?"

Kreacher coughed quietly. "Kreacher heard the Mudblood's husband speak of Master Regulus' friend. Many times did Caliban Lovegood pay a visit to Master Regulus. Many times did they speak of something else I heard the Mudblood discuss… a 'horcrux.' Many times did Master Regulus discuss this with his good friend Caliban Lovegood. Here. Take this."

Kreacher shoved the parcel in his arms toward Hermione, frowning deeply as his bugged-out eyes darkened. Hermione took the parcel, her hands shaking a bit as she tried to mumble some semblance of a thanks. She turned the little bundle over it her hands as Kreacher said gruffly,

"Master Regulus would want that it be read now. Even by the likes of you. Take it and read it. Goodbye."

 _CRACK!_

Kreacher disappeared with a snap of his bony fingers, vanishing into the air before Hermione's eyes. Hermione felt baffled as she studied the little parcel in her hands. She wished, all of a sudden, that Harry and Severus had not gone out to the Muggle supermarket for groceries, and that Ginny were not in the shower upstairs. To be standing alone in the kitchen with Luna, with such a mysterious package, felt abruptly disorienting. Hermione raised her eyes from the wrapped bundle to Luna and shrugged lightly.

"Perhaps we should open it."

"Oh, yes. I should like to do so, if it's to do with my Uncle Caliban," Luna agreed. She cast a quick warming charm over the bowls of pasta she and Hermione had been working on, so that they wouldn't go bad on the counter, and she brushed off her hands on her apron. She moved to the bench at the old wooden table, and Hermione followed with a numb anxiety in her chest. She set the bundle down on the table before them, remembering the matter-of-fact way Kreacher had given it to her. She yanked on the twine binding around the bundle and the thin paper wrapping fell apart.

A thick stack of papers fell out, and Hermione gasped quietly. There were photographs piled on the top. She and Luna began thumbing through the magically animated, black-and-white photos. There were images of Sirius and Regulus Black as children with a pale blond boy - several years younger - that was unmistakably related to Luna. He had the same almond shape to his eyes, the same cheekbones, the same silvery hair.

"Oh! That's Uncle Caliban there!" Luna breathed. "When he was just a boy! And in this one… that's my father with them! Why, I had no idea that my father and my Uncle Caliban were such good friends with Sirius and Regulus Black as children. How fascinating. It rather warms the heart, doesn't it? To think of one's parents even younger than oneself? We often think only of our parents as adults. It sometimes behooves us to imagine our role models as children…"

Hermione ignored Luna's rambling, focusing on the photos. As the stack got smaller, the boys in the images got older. Soon they were wearing Hogwarts robes, standing around a Christmas tree in the parlor of Grimmauld Place. Sirius Black had on a Gryffindor Robe, and Regulus a Slytherin one, while the Lovegood boys wore Ravenclaw attire. As the boys in the photos aged further, Sirius and Xenophilius disappeared. The last four or five photos showed very somber-looking teenagers - just Regulus and Caliban. Hermione turned over the last photograph and saw ink scrawled in tight script.

' _Regulus and Caliban. March 1979.'_

Hermione felt a sense of dread as she set down the photograph. She looked up to see that Luna had begun reading a few of the letters in the stack. The girl's blonde eyebrows had furrowed deeply, and Hermione's unease churned in her belly. Luna handed over the letter in her hand, and Hermione silently read it four or five times before she said quietly,

"As soon as Severus comes home, he'll need to see this."

She read the letter a final time, realizing just how instrumental Luna and her family had been in Severus' and her success to this point.

' _Caliban,_

 _I know that you have never agreed with my taking the oath to become a Death Eater, old friend. Day by day I become more assured that you were right all along about that… especially since I've become more certain that the Dark Lord has split his soul using horcruxes. You were right about that, too. I had thought you quite mad to even suggest such a concept, you know. After all, what sort of wizard - Dark or otherwise - would attempt such insanity?_

 _But you were right, Caliban. It's a locket. I've no idea how to destroy it, or what to do with it. There must be something out there stronger than this madness. If there's magic powerful enough to split the soul into an object, then there must be magic powerful enough to destroy the object. But I can't think of what that would be. You're a Ravenclaw. Think about it, won't you?_

 _I'm very certain that all of this will be the death of me. He knows I've got regrets. I'm not sure when I'll be able to write next, if at all. Use that silly brain of yours for something noble, won't you?_

 _R.A.B.'_

* * *

Severus jolted awake, jarred from one of the more disturbing dreams he had experienced in a great long while. He stared at Hermione's form beside him. She was peacefully asleep. He snatched at the moss agate stone from the bedside table and glared at it. Luna Lovegood had given the moss agate to Hermione at her birthday last year. Wasn't the stone meant to impart _useful_ dreams to the inhabitants of a space? He felt rather like tossing the rock at the window, or Vanishing it, but he forced himself to set it down and to lie back again.

As Severus wrenched his eyes shut and stared at the ceiling, he recalled his awful dream. He'd been sitting in The Three Broomsticks with Hermione, in what were obviously far happier times. Then, out of nowhere, Sybill Trelawney had plopped down at their table. Her pale eyes had rolled back in her skull and she'd begun rocking frantically back and forth. She'd begun foaming a bit at the corners of her mouth and her voice had been low and droning as she'd said,

" _The Dark Lord will be defeated when at last his nemesis snuffs out the last remnant of his soul. The Master of Death shall snuff out the candle while clutching once more the first Golden Snitch. The snake and the boy on the very same day… the Master of Death shall snuff out the candle while clutching once more the first Golden Snitch."_

Then Sybill Trelawney had slumped over on the table, unmistakably dead, and Severus had jolted awake and grabbed at the moss agate in anger.

Now he lay staring at the ceiling and had to wonder whether the stone had worked, after all. Earlier in the day, Hermione and Luna had called a bit of a conference in the kitchen once he and Potter had returned from the Muggle supermarket. Severus had put the tins of beans in the cupboards and had then pored over letters and photographs at the table. There had been all sorts of evidence that Caliban Lovegood - along with Regulus Black - had known about at least one of Voldemort's horcruxes.

By the end of the day, Severus speculated that _that_ was why Caliban Lovegood had stolen the wyvern dagger from him as a sixth-year student, and why he'd left it to Luna at his death. Now he'd dreamed what may well be an actual prophecy, imbued into his mind by the mystical powers of the moss agate, and he felt compelled to rouse Hermione. He leaned over to her and shook her shoulder rather roughly. She groaned quietly and rolled over.

"Whassamatter?" She whispered hoarsely. Severus grunted and tapped her cheek to rouse her more firmly.

"Wake up, Hermione," he said quite firmly. "It's important."

Hermione's eyes fluttered and she sat up quickly. She rubbed at her eyes and blinked through the darkness, reaching for her wand. " _Lumos,_ " she muttered. "What's wrong?"

Severus adjusted her eyes to the eerie white light and said, "I dreamed a prophecy, I think. I'm not certain that it works like that, but… I think it did. I think it worked that like that."

Hermione looked concerned. She set her wand down upon the covers and nodded. "What did you dream?" she asked in a determined tone.

Severus squeezed his eyes shut and thought hard. It was important that he remember the 'prophecy' as close to verbatim as possible. He replayed the dream in his mind and said, "It was in the Three Broomsticks. Sybill Trelawney sat down and went into a frightful trance. I've seen it before; it was just the same. She said, ' _The Dark Lord will be defeated when at last his nemesis snuffs out the last remnant of his soul. The Master of Death shall snuff out the candle while clutching once more the first Golden Snitch. The snake and the boy on the very same day… the Master of Death shall snuff out the candle while clutching once more the first Golden Snitch.'_ Then she slumped over and was dead and I woke up."

He opened his eyes and looked to Hermione. There was an expression of abject terror on her face. It quickly morphed into a look of steely resolution, and she nodded and pinched her lips.

"Right," she said. "The 'first Golden Snitch.' That'll be the first Snitch Harry ever caught in Quidditch, right? That's… that's 'a thing' in Quidditch, isn't it? I confess I don't know much about the game, but Harry told me once -"

Severus nodded. "For Seekers, it's often kept as a trophy. I wouldn't be surprised if Potter kept the first Golden Snitch from his first year. But I've no idea what significance that would bear in all of this."

Hermione shut her eyes and shook her head hard. "The Hallows," she said at last. "Could… could there be some power in the Snitch? 'Master of Death'? I mean, that has to do with the Hallows. Perhaps we were wrong about the Resurrection Stone. Perhaps… It's so silly, but perhaps the _Snitch_ is… no, no, I'm just tired. I'm not thinking clearly."

Severus felt a little wave of realization come over him then, as he remembered a conversation between himself and Dumbledore's portrait back at Hogwarts before he'd had to flee.

' _Severus, there's a book I should like for you to buy Ms. Granger for her birthday… Ende of Deth. Oh, and there is a Golden Snitch, you'll find, in the upper-left drawer of the Headmaster's desk. The one that opens with the small silver key. Leave it there until such time as it's fit to open the drawer. At that time, give it to Harry Potter, will you? It is very important. It was his first Golden Snitch.'_

At the time, Severus had focused only on the book recommendation for Hermione. He'd utterly ignored Albus Dumbledore's insistence to give the Golden Snitch to Harry Potter. Now he explained the conversation to Hermione, and her face went even more white in the light of her wand. She nodded.

"Dumbledore did something to the Snitch," she murmured.

"He put the Gaunt family ring into it," Severus pronounced, sounding more convinced than he felt. "The Resurrection Stone."

"So, if Harry's got the Snitch, and the Elder Wand, and the Invisibility Cloak, then he'll be the Master of Death?" Hermione breathed. "That leaves…"

" _The snake and the boy on the very same day,_ " Severus nodded, repeating the words from the prophecy he dreamed. It meant, he knew, that the horcrux inside Potter and the horcrux inside Nagini the snake would be destroyed on the same day. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. " _The Master of Death shall snuff out the candle while clutching once more the first Golden Snitch._ "

Hermione was silent for a long moment. "I've no idea how much stock to put into dreamed prophecy," she admitted at last.

"Nor I," Severus sighed, "but it's all we have to use just now."

"So, what do we do?" Hermione demanded. "We go barging headlong to where _he_ is? Kill the snake?"

"No, silly girl," Severus said rather unkindly. "I'll need to somehow get to the Headmaster's office and obtain the Snitch from the upper-left drawer of the desk, just as Dumbledore said. And _then_ we go - all of us - to wherever the Dark Lord is. The snake Nagini will be with him, of course. We will need to be in touch with the Order as soon as possible. We will need to strategize. This will be a battle, an ambush. Potter will need to go head-to-head with the Dark Lord, and of course the snake will need to be killed first. But we will need the entire Order in this. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Arthur and Molly, the twins, Bill and Fleur, Charlie and Ginny Weasley, Minerva McGonagall, Hagrid… obviously Tonks is pregnant, but we'll need her, too. We'll need Neville Longbottom. Miss Lovegood. You most especially."

"And you," Hermione said rather fiercely, pulling her hands up to hold Severus' face. She kissed him then, far more insistently than Severus had been expecting. He tasted sleep on her and knew he must be disgusting just now, but she did not seem to mind. She held his face tightly, pressing her lips against his and edging toward him on the bed.

He knew why she was being this way. A keen sense of desperation had come over her as she had realized what Severus had known for ages. There was going to be an end to all of this, and they were probably going to die. They had been destroying horcruxes successfully to this point, of course, and they might even have a theory on how to provide Harry Potter all three mystical Deathly Hallows at once. But the reality was that they were going to _plan_ a massive battle, that they were going to deliberately pit Harry Potter with Voldemort in a final fight to the death. The odds of any of the Order surviving - including Severus and Hermione - were dim at best.

Hermione knew that. She was no fool. And so she had begun to kiss Severus as though tonight were the last night they'd ever have together. It wasn't, of course. All of these grand plans would take weeks to materialize. But it seemed as though the gravity of the situation had hit Hermione like a sack of bricks to the face. Her little hands began drifting around Severus' bare chest in the darkness, coursing and searching as though she would find safety on him. Her mouth moved to his neck, and Severus groaned quietly at the urgent feel of her mouth.

His own hands moved on instinct, hooking beneath the waistband of her flannel pyjama pants and wrenching them downward. She shimmied out of them and kicked them away beneath the blankets. Severus let his fingers drift between Hermione's thighs as she kept kissing his neck, and there he felt a blossoming warm moisture. She bucked her hips against his fingers and squealed quietly, and Severus felt himself harden at the sensation of it all. He pushed Hermione's shoulder gently and rolled them both until he hovered atop her.

He stared down at her through the ghostly white light of her wand. The black strands of his hair hung between them, dangling over her cheeks as she reached up to tuck it behind his ears. Severus saw Hermione's wide eyes wet with unshed tears, saw the way she'd set her brave mouth into a straight line despite how her bottom lip trembled.

"Go ahead and cry," he told her, sounding perhaps more aggressive than he'd intended. Hermione Granger was not one to give in easily to petty emotion, but emotion just now was not petty. They were about to work out detailed plans for a battle that would cost many lives. Harry Potter was quite likely to die. Severus and Hermione were both quite likely to die. He reached down and brushed his thumb over her shaking lip, staring at her wet eyes as he said more firmly, "Do it. It's fine. You've earned it. Cry, Hermione."

She did. She shut her eyes and the tears leaked out, first from her right eye and then from the left. They wormed their way down her porcelain cheeks and dripped onto the pillowcase, and Severus made no effort to catch them. Instead he leaned down and kissed away the streaks left behind on her skin, and he whispered in her ear,

"You have been so very, very brave. And you will continue to be brave, because you have no other choice." He kissed the hair beside her ear, wet with tears, and sat back up. Hermione nodded up at him and said in a hoarse whisper,

"It was you who taught me how to fight."

"No," Severus insisted, shaking his head. "I taught you wandless magic, and only just. You hardly needed instruction with that. I've been watching you fight for a very long time, Hermione Granger, and I shall be honored to fight alongside you until it's all over. However it ends."

She shut her eyes and put her hands on his chest, pressing her palms flat against his skin. Severus relished the feel of the bond they shared, the swirl of magic pulsing between them feeling particularly strong tonight.

"Make love to me, will you?" Hermione whispered, and Severus answered by arranging himself on his hands above her. He gently parted her thighs with one knee and guided himself into her body.

He glided in smoothly, for she was more than ready for him. She felt tight and slick, and Severus growled quietly at the delicious squeeze of her body on him. It always felt good to be inside of her, of course, but it felt particularly good tonight. It felt particularly necessary tonight. He paused once he was nestled snugly within her. He took a deep breath and paid full attention to what it felt like in that moment, knowing that his opportunities to experience this might be limited.

She smelled like spring rain. Her breasts were soft as they pushed against his chest. Her breath was warm as she huffed unevenly into the crook of his neck. Her arms were snaked around his shoulders, holding fast, and he liked the feel of that very much. Her knees were clamped around his hips, and he memorized the way she pulled him against her. The walls of her womanhood twitched with anticipation as he paused inside of her, urging him to move, and Severus grunted quietly.

He finally pulled out and pushed in again, and Hermione cried quietly against Severus' shoulder. Any other time, he would have yanked himself from her and asked if she were all right. He would never have kept thrusting if she were crying. But tonight he said nothing and kept going, for he knew exactly why she was crying, and he knew that she wanted him to continue.

Severus circled his hips in a slow, steady pace for what felt like an eternity. The world was utterly lost to him; for all he knew a year had passed and London had been blown to bits outside the house. His skin tingled and a sheen of sweat took him over. His muscles ached at how he was perched, at how he pushed and angled himself. But Severus did not care. All he wanted was to keep moving within Hermione, to keep feeling the snug warmth of her forever.

At one point, Hermione's little gasping moans grew a bit louder. Her knees tightened on his hips, and her hands clutched his shoulders more tightly. She actually had the gumption to drag her teeth against his shoulder, and Severus hissed at the feel of it. And then he felt her walls clenching and tightening around him, felt her go slack in his arms, heard her voice keening his name.

He whirled her over, all of a sudden, driven to an unexpected frenzy by the feel of her climax coming through their bond. He turned her over onto her stomach and pushed the small of her back down onto the mattress. He yanked her hips upward and drove himself into her, thrusting much harder and faster than he'd done before. Suddenly there was no tantric, romantic bliss between them. There was only the intense feel of him grinding against her body. Severus squeezed Hermione's backside so tightly he distantly wondered whether he would leave bruises on her delicate skin. He felt her finish around him again, felt the swell of her pleasure in their bond, and that was it. His seed erupted into her, jetting forth in volleys as he grunted and snarled like a beast.

He gasped for air, wishing he had water to drink and suddenly feeling very old indeed. He was exhausted and sore and everything felt very good. Severus flopped onto his back on his pillow, more concerned with sleep than with water or bathing or anything else at all. He felt Hermione curl up against his chest, and her face was sodden with tears. Then Severus remembered how it was that they'd gotten around to such an activity in the first place.

 _Oh, yes,_ he thought bitterly to himself. _We were discussing the apocalyptic battle that's to come. The one in which Voldemort will hopefully die at the hands of a 17-year-old boy who is a horcrux. Yes, that battle. The one in which many lives, Order of the Phoenix and Death Eater alike, will be lost. That battle. Oh, but first, I must risk my life returning to Hogwarts and steal back a bloody Golden Snitch. Oh, yes. That was how we got around to sex. I'd forgotten._

Severus shut his eyes and reached one hand over to the moss agate beside the bed. He drifted his fingertips over the rough stone, sincerely hoping that once he fell back to sleep, there would be no more dreamed prophecies. Perhaps, he hoped, the damned stone could make him think about delicious food, or a particularly well-brewed potion.

He was asleep before he could direct any more snark toward the moss agate. He dreamed that he was walking along a sunny beach, tossing stones into the water. It was not an altogether unpleasant dream, and in the morning, Severus felt surprisingly refreshed and prepared to face reality once more.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I apologize for the unacceptably long delay between updates! I have had a lot of personal commitments in the last few days, and just was not able to find time to write. So, I do apologize and promise I'll be writing a lot more in the upcoming days. Thanks for your patience!**

 **Easter Egg #1: The name "Caliban" comes from Shakespeare's** _ **The Tempest.**_

 **Easter Egg #2: In crystal lore, moss agates are used to keep bad dreams away or to induce prophetic dreams.**

 **Easter Egg #3: A wyvern is a two-legged creature with a dragon's head and a reptilian body, and a curled tail. Generally, wyverns can not speak, while dragons can. It is worth noting that Newt Scamander did not believe wyverns to be real; their existence is thus controversial even within the wizarding community and it's therefore an animal whose powers might appeal to the Lovegood clan.**

 **Thank you so very much to those who have left reviews on the last few chapters! Your feedback is incredibly valued. Love to all!**

* * *

Three days after Severus' prophetic dream, Hermione stood beside their bed, tugging the blankets neatly into place. She could have used her wand to do it, of course, but there was something oddly cathartic about yanking the covers up around the pillows until nary a wrinkle was upon them. She smoothed the topmost blanket for the fifth time, running her trembling palms over the dark brocade as she thought about where Severus was right now.

He was at Hogwarts. It was only six in the morning just now, and he'd already been gone for a half hour. He'd Disapparated well before sunrise, with the intention of sneaking into the castle and making his way up to the Headmaster's office to obtain Harry's first Golden Snitch. He was going to speak with Dumbledore's portrait, too. Of course, the portrait was not an actual representation of Albus Dumbledore, but there may well be more useful wisdom that the real wizard had imparted to his portrait before his death.

Hermione was not certain how long Severus would be gone, or when he'd be back. She felt queasy and anxious. She'd long ago gotten herself dressed and ready for the day, though the day had no concrete plans. She sighed as she stared at the bed, unable to find a single fault in how she'd made it. There was a gentle knocking on the bedroom door then, and Hermione raised her eyes to see the door push slowly open.

"Ginny," Hermione breathed with a measure of relief, grateful for the distraction. Ginny Weasley flashed a half-smile at Hermione and tugged Harry's ratty old robe more tightly around herself as she stepped into the bedroom. In her hand, she held out a bit of paper, and she sniffed as she said quietly,

"Found this yesterday in the room Fred and George used when they were here. I… thought you might want to see it."

Hermione furrowed her brow as she took the crumpled paper from Ginny's hands. At once, she recognized the barely-legible scrawl that had belonged to Ron Weasley. Hermione felt her eyes go hot and burn as she sank into an armchair before the fireplace. She smoothed the paper carefully upon her lap and began reading Ron's writing.

 _Fred and George,_

 _I woke up this morning to find my duvet covered in real, genuinely cold snow. No doubts as to who's responsible. Ha-ha. Aren't you two hilarious? If I wake up to any more strange weather, you can bet your last Galleons that I'll have Hermione ensure both of you are aptly punished in manners so foul even you two haven't dreamed of them. Neither of you will be able to sit for a week. She can do that, you know. Take your snowstorms and bugger off, will you?_

 _R_

Hermione swiped roughly at the tears that had begun streaming down her face. She could just see Fred and George Weasley sending a snow cloud down to hover over Ron's bed, to dribble snowflakes onto him as he slept. She could just see Ron penning this angry response, scrawling out odd threats while his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. Hermione gulped heavily and brushed her fingertips over the writing on the page.

"Oh, Ronald," she whispered, "You lived like a boy, but you died like a man."

"Keep that," Ginny Weasley said, lowering herself into the chair opposite Hermione. "Fred and George have one or two other threatening notes from Ron already. That one mentions you. Keep it."

Gratefully, Hermione nodded and folded up Ron's note to his brothers. She reached for her wand and built up the fire a bit, since the room had gone cold. She and Ginny sat in heavy silence for a long moment, until at last Ginny said,

"Do you know, I asked Harry to marry me?"

Hermione's face flew so hard toward Ginny's chair that her neck ached. She stared, wide-eyed, at the other girl and demanded, "What?"

Ginny nodded at the fire. "It's true. He thinks he's going to die. He doesn't think that he's going to make it out of this alive. And I wanted to know, no matter what happens to him, what it felt like to be married to him. I wanted him to know what it felt like to be married to me."

Hermione felt her mouth fall open, but she nodded. She could hardly blame Ginny. It would be very hypocritical to criticize Ginny for wanting to be married in the midst of madness. Of course, Harry and Ginny were _both_ very young to be thinking about marriage. And Ginny wouldn't even be seventeen for another eight months. She couldn't legally marry even if she'd wanted to do so. Ginny kept talking, though, and suddenly everything made sense in a rather awful way.

"I know full well that I can't _actually_ marry Harry," she said plainly. "Even if I were of age, which I'm not, it isn't as though we can walk anymore into the Ministry of Magic and request a marriage license. So I asked Professor Snape about the means you and he used to marry one another."

Hermione felt her stomach sink as she met Ginny's eyes. She pinched her lips. " _Magnum Verbum Honoris._ "

"Yes." Ginny nodded crisply. "Except, as Professor Snape tells it, the problem with such a marriage is that it's not exactly advisable in a situation where one spouse is _very likely to die._ Can you suppose why that would be? He told me, Hermione, that two people in a bond like yours can't live without each other. That if one person dies, the other will soon follow. So I can't bind myself to Harry with a vow like that, you see. He wouldn't do it, because he thinks he's going to die. But you knew this when you married a man nearly twenty years older than you. What… what were you thinking, Hermione?"

Hermione chewed her lip and shrugged as she mumbled, "All I know is that if Severus were dead, I wouldn't want to live without him."

"What a silly and suicidal thing to say." Ginny snorted out a bitter laugh and shook her head. Hermione felt herself grow warm with anger. She suddenly flashed back to the day Dumbledore had died, the day that Ginny had ratted her relationship with Severus out to the room full of allies. She sat up a bit straighter as she reminded Ginny,

"My husband is at Hogwarts right now searching the Headmasters office for Harry's first Golden Snitch, because it's the only tiny hope we have of keeping Harry alive. My husband is putting his own life at risk to save Harry. Does that mean nothing? Why on Earth must you and I always argue, Ginny?"

Ginny did not answer. Her pale, freckled cheeks flushed a dark pink and she looked a bit ashamed as she eyed the letter Ron had written to Fred and George. It lay neatly folded in Hermione's lap. Hermione touched it and asked again,

"Why must we fight? I only want to be friends with you."

"I think that you and I are both headstrong people who want the same things - for ourselves and for others," Ginny said carefully, "but we sometimes have different ways of achieving those things. I don't mean to be rude to you, Hermione. I need you as my friend. Forgive me… for today, but most especially for the times I have not been so loyal as I ought to have been."

She stared at her fingernails for a long moment, and then Hermione nodded so that Ginny could see out of her peripheral vision. Ginny cleared her throat roughly and pulled herself from the chair. She knotted Harry's old robe more tightly about her slim waist and said in a cold, matter-of-fact tone,

"Luna's downstairs. She's managed to Transfigure six cans of butterbeans into a full breakfast. Between the two of you, my cooking spells are utterly put to shame. Will you come and eat something?"

"Yes. I'll be down in a moment." Hermione flicked up the corners of her mouth and watched as Ginny left. She sighed and stared at Severus' battered old pocket-watch on the bedside table. It was her half of the _Oraverit_ pair; Severus had taken the iron pendant with him to Hogwarts. Hermione hoped that very soon Severus would appear out of thin air beside the pocket-watch. He'd be safe and sound and would have Harry's first Golden Snitch with him.

But she stared at the _Oraverit_ for a solid three minutes, and nothing happened. At last, Hermione pinched her lips and left the bedroom. There was breakfast downstairs, apparently, and Hermione did not want to let it go cold.

* * *

Severus moved through Hogwarts as an unseen wraith. The corridors glided past him as though they existed on another plane. The stone arches, the statues and busts, the stained glass windows, the towering columns and intimate cloisters - all were near enough to touch and feel, and yet wholly unreachable. Severus had disguised himself with perhaps his best Disillusionment Charm to date, along with a powerful _Muffliato_ , the silencing spell of his own creation. As he moved through Hogwarts Castle, he felt quite like a ghost come back to haunt his own home through the Veil.

It was still early enough that the school's campus was sleeping. Portraits snoozed in their frames. The corridors were empty and still. The frigid air outside was black with night, though it neared six in the morning. Severus ascended several flights of winding stairs in a row, pattering upward with quick and steady footfalls. He reached the third-floor corridor and only then realized how hard his heart thumped in his chest. He paused for a brief moment to catch his breath, smoothly pulling his body into a niche in the wall where a bust of Norvel Twonk stood guard.

He leaned his head back against the cold stone wall and sighed. In his hand, his wand suddenly felt heavy and unwieldy. It was odd and undesirable to be in Hogwarts just now; he wasn't exactly here for social purposes or to conduct his ordinary work. This was a mission into hostile territory. The air crackled with enemy magic. It was exhausting.

Severus heard a set of rapid, clicking footsteps suddenly, and he yanked himself further into the hollow space behind the bust as he jabbed his wand out before him. He was invisible and silent, he knew, but just the same he stood at the ready. The footsteps - female, judging by the click and pace - grew closer and closer until Minerva McGonagall came into view.

Severus lowered his wand and suppressed the instinct to call out to Minerva. She was his ally, after all; he ought to perhaps let her know that he was here on a mission for the Order's cause. But, of course, that was hardly something Severus could do just now. He became grateful for his own self-control when Minerva said in a quiet, hoarse tone,

"Oh. Good morning, Filius."

Severus narrowed his eyes and saw little Filius Flitwick wobbling down the corridor, coming from the opposite direction that Minerva had done. Flitwick toted an enormous bag behind him which appeared to be enchanted with a feather-light charm. Flitwick inclined his head respectfully to McGonagall and said in a dark tone,

"Morning, Minerva."

"Where are you headed so early this morning, Filius?" Minerva's voice was as warm and kind as Severus had ever heard. There was no hint of suspicion, no subtle accusation of mischief. It was a genuine inquiry, a question from a concerned friend. Severus was unaccustomed to those who utterly lacked duplicity. Minerva McGonagall was a marvel in that regard.

"I'm actually just coming from the library." Flitwick jabbed his thumb backward at the massive sack of books. "I spent my entire night reading about the _Epoximise_ charm. Sleep is not a luxury that has come easily to me of late, I'm afraid."

"But sleep is not a luxury, Filius. Sleep is a necessity," Minerva McGonagall admonished. She tutted a bit and then said more gently, "Perhaps get yourself a dose of Dreamless Sleep from Horace Slughorn. It may help."

Filius Flitwick sighed and sounded very tired indeed as he asked, "I presume, Minerva, that you've seen yesterday's _Daily Prophet?_ "

"I have not," Minerva sniffed. She crossed her thin arms over her elegant robes and shook her head. "I've been avoiding the rag in recent months. They no longer print the news; they print propaganda. I'm not interested."

"Well, what they say may be infuriating, but it's hardly boring," Flitwick insisted. He rifled about in his bag for a moment and then thrust a wrinkled newspaper at Minerva. She took it, and Filius jabbed his little hand toward the front page. "See there? _MUGGLE-BORN REGISTRATION PROCEEDING SMOOTHLY."_

"What utter nonsense," Minerva sneered. She began to read the cover story aloud, her voice dripping with hatred. "' _Minister for Magic Pius Thicknesse has announced that the outcomes of ongoing Muggle-born registrations have been expeditious and fruitful. Thanks to the steadfast efforts of the Muggle-Born Registration Commission, it is estimated that ninety percent of Britain's Muggle-borns have been properly registered with the Ministry. Head of the Commission, Madam Dolores Umbridge, assured the public recently that the registrations are being carried out with the utmost compassion toward the Muggle-borns…_ ' Oh, Filius. I can't read any more."

She thrust the paper back down toward Flitwick and looked ill as she shook her head. Minerva and Flitwick finally bid one another farewell, though it felt more as though they were wishing each other luck and courage for the day. Then they each continued in the way they'd been going, and Severus was left alone again in the corridor.

He breathed deeply for the first time in many minutes, feeling a cold sense of dread wash through him as he made his way up to the Headmaster's tower. He may have been Disillusioned, but the gargoyle did not seem to know or care about that fact. The portal to the stairwell opened willingly for Severus despite his disguise. The castle, it seemed, still regarded him as the rightful Headmaster, after all.

Severus padded up the stairs to the Headmaster's office, feeling sick to his stomach as he made his way into the room. The space was dark and chilled, and the period of disuse had allowed a thin veneer of dust to settle over the bookshelves and portrait frames. On another occasion, had Severus not felt so rushed, he might have made an effort to clean the place up. But today he was on a mission, and he made a beeline for the Headmaster's desk. He reached into the pocket of his dark robes and extracted the tiny pewter key that had been passed down to him. He jabbed it into the upper side drawer in the Headmaster's desk as he'd remembered Dumbledore telling him to do. He ignored the sprawled parchments all over the Headmaster's desk; they were tasks left half-finished from when Severus had fled the place six weeks earlier.

The little drawer unlocked with a quiet _click_ as Severus turned the key a half-revolution to the left. The drawer smoothly opened itself, and inside there was but one object: a gleaming golden ball. Severus gulped heavily and picked up the cold, shining Snitch. He studied it for a brief moment, and then whirled around when he heard Dumbledore's voice from behind him.

"It won't reveal its secrets to you now, Severus. Nor will it do so now for Harry. All that matters is that the Snitch be safely in his possession. When the time is right, the Snitch will help him."

Severus scowled up at Albus Dumbledore's portrait as he tucked the Snitch safely away. Even in death, the old man was condescending and cryptic. Severus opened his mouth to make a snide remark, but then he heard a woman's voice clear her throat from his right. Severus turned his attention up to the portrait of Dilys Derwent, who had been the one to make the noise. She was perched in her frame on a wooden bench, wearing severe 18th-century black velvet garb and a Healer's hat.

"Headmistress," Severus acknowledged, bowing his head. Dilys Derwent just nodded and said in an impatient voice,

"Professor Snape, as you may know, I also have a portrait at St. Mungo's Hospital. I think you may be interested to know what transpired there just yesterday."

Severus narrowed his eyes, feeling worried. "Please do tell," he said smoothly.

Dilys Derwent smoothed her black skirts and said in a prim tone, "I was watching the everyday happenings of the hospital intake. Nothing out of the ordinary. But then in came a woman who walked up to the check-in desk and, brazenly as you please, she cast the Imperius Charm upon the witches there. She wormed her way up into the patient wards. I was naturally concerned, so I decided to use other portraits to monitor the situation. This woman eventually came back out to the main lobby with a Levitated patient - a man I recognized as one Edward Tonks. He's been brought in just a few days earlier after being attacked. He's an Auror, it seems? But this witch just Levitated Mr. Tonks right over to the Floo Fireplace. The workers were still cursed. And she tossed Floo Powder into the fireplace, screamed, ' _Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire!'_ and disappeared into the green flames. She took Edward Tonks with her."

Severus felt ill. He was quite certain he knew the answer to the question he was about to ask, but just the same he said, "Have you any notion who this kidnapper was?"

Dilys Derwent's portrait nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes. I've seen her at St. Mungo's before. It was Bellatrix Lestrange."

Severus pinched his lips and nodded tightly. "Thank you, Headmistress." He turned his attention back to Albus Dumbledore's portrait and said, "Am I now to rescue Ted Tonks in the midst of all this, as well?"

Dumbledore's portrait shrugged. "It sounds to me, Severus, as though an all-out assault on Malfoy Manor is inevitable. If it is possible to spare a captive Ted Tonks during your victory, I should think such a bonus might be highly desirable. Now, you _will_ see to it that Harry gets that Golden Snitch, won't you?"

"Yes." Severus nodded and patted the Snitch in his breast pocket. Then he nodded crisply and pulled the iron rune pendant from under his shirt. He clutched it tightly in his fist and shut his eyes as he said, "I thank you all for your assistance. Please understand why I mustn't tarry. Good day. _Oraverit!"_


	6. Chapter 6

"Mum!"

" _Ginevra Molly Weasley!_ Where on Earth have you been? Do you know how many nights I've spent…" Molly Weasley trailed off in the threshold where she stood. Her brown eyes glistened suddenly as she shook her head and held out her arms. "Come here, my child."

The two women were wrapped up in a somber embrace for a very long moment, and Severus began to feel acutely uncomfortable. He felt an unexpected squeeze around his right hand, and he let Hermione pull him into the quiet parlor next door. Hermione stared out the bay window at the beach and the sea while Ginny Weasley reunited with her parents in the kitchen. At last, Hermione murmured,

"Just give them one more moment, Severus, and we'll explain everything. I'm quite certain Arthur and Molly Weasley can figure that we haven't come for tea."

Severus gave a little grunt of annoyance and glanced around the cottage. "Where has everyone else gone?" he wondered aloud. "The twins, Kingsley, Bill and Fleur, Nymphadora? We need them all. Where are they? I can't let them dally next door all -"

"Molly Weasley's son is dead, and for months she has had virtually no assurance of her daughter's safety." Hermione's voice was a tight clip as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Severus. "Please. Give them a moment, will you?"

Severus sighed rather loudly and stared out the window the way Hermione had done. Harry Potter was back at Grimmauld Place with the Lovegood girl; none of them had thought it wise for Harry to come to Shell Cottage just now. Besides, Severus had been expecting a great many more lodgers at the cottage, and it seemed best to bring the fewest visitors possible. He'd actually rather insisted that Ginevra Weasley stay at Grimmauld Place, too, until the three females had insisted that Molly must be allowed to see her daughter.

"Professor Snape?"

Severus whirled around his shoulder to see that Ginny Weasley had come into the parlor. She wiped tears from her eyes as Molly and Arthur trailed behind with nervous expressions. Severus shot up an eyebrow at the youngest Weasley in expectation, and the girl continued,

"Perhaps we all ought to fill one another in."

Severus turned his attention to the Weasley parents. He sniffed and asked stiffly, "Where is everyone?"

Arthur shifted on his feet and said, "Tonks left in the middle of the night… we couldn't stop her. She heard on the radio that her father was abducted from St. Mungo's."

"The _Wizarding Wireless Network_ reported on Ted Tonks' abduction?" Hermione asked in disbelief from beside Severus. That fact wasn't Severus' immediate concern, but Molly jumped in,

"No, of course not. The WWN and the _Daily Prophet_ only report what the new regime wants people to know. To help keep others up-to-date, and to increase dissent, Fred and George have teamed up with their friend Lee Jordan. They've made a new program called _Potterwatch._ There are passwords to listen in, and they report the truth. It's all very important. They're apparently safe, wherever they are… as safe as any of us can be just now."

Molly looked rather distressed at her own words, and Hermione gave a resolute nod. But then she prodded, "So… Tonks heard about her father and… left? Where?"

Arthur sighed. "She thinks they've got him at Malfoy Manor," he said. "Kingsley, Bill, and Fleur left this afternoon to go after her. They're scoping out Wiltshire to assess the situation."

"The Dark Lord is almost certainly still there," Severus sneered. He was unable to disguise the disgust in his voice as he continued, "Nymphadora is visibly pregnant, and she runs off on a suicide mission to rescue her father? What sort of nonsense -"

"Well, Severus, since _you_ killed her husband in Malfoy Manor, and since our son died there, I think it's reasonable to gravely fear for any relative being held captive in those walls." Molly spoke with a harshness that Severus had never heard from her. His mouth snapped shut and he gave an apologetic incline of his head.

"How long has the search party been gone?" he asked quietly.

"Four hours," answered Arthur. "We stayed here in case… well, frankly, in case something like this happened. We didn't think we ought to leave the cottage abandoned just now."

"No, almost certainly not," Severus replied. He gestured to the rickety furniture in the old parlor, and everyone squished onto small divans and chairs.

Severus, Hermione, and Ginny launched into a detailed explanation of what had come to pass since they'd last seen Molly and Arthur. They described the way they'd destroyed Hufflepuff's cup in Gringotts - how they'd broken in, located the thing, and used the wyvern dagger to eradicate the horcrux. Severus benevolently left out the detail of what Ginny had been doing with Harry Potter the day of the Gringotts break-in. It didn't seem right to inform Arthur that his daughter had been mid-coitus with The Boy Who Lived. Instead, it was reported that Severus and Hermione were reunited with Potter at a Muggle establishment, and from there the group had been able to maintain a degree of contact.

Ginny and Hermione took over the conversation as they described learning that Luna Lovegood was being held prisoner. They discussed how they'd snuck into Hogwarts to obtain the Elder Wand and Ravenclaw's diadem and to free Luna. They talked about the destruction of the diadem and the days that had passed since then. The discovery of the 'first Golden Snitch' clue was described, as well as how Severus had back to Hogwarts himself to fetch the thing.

"Bless my soul," Arthur Weasley finally said. "You lot _have_ been busy, haven't you?"

"And we're hardly finished," Severus said quietly. "What comes next is the worst bit, I'm afraid. It's a bit complicated, if I'm honest, by the fact that Nymphadora and the others may be at Malfoy Manor at this very moment. But we need to carefully strategize an assault that includes Harry Potter. The snake needs to be killed immediately; we are quite certain it is a horcrux, as well. Somehow… and we are admittedly not certain that this will be in a non-lethal manner… somehow the horcrux within Harry Potter must be destroyed. He will likely be killed."

Molly and Arthur looked horrified, but Arthur finally nodded and flicked his eyes to his daughter. "Ginny?" he whispered, "You've… you've talked all this over with Harry, have you?"

"Yes, Dad," Ginevra nodded. She wiped her eyes with her knuckles again, for it seemed she had begun to cry once more. Severus tried not to roll his eyes as he reached in his breast pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief. He held it out to Ginevra Weasley the same way he'd done with sobbing female students for years. She took it and dabbed at her eyes, saying quietly, "Thank you, Professor Snape."

"Our hope is that once Harry has all three Deathly Hallows, he may somehow survive having the horcrux within him destroyed," Hermione said in an uneasy tone from beside Severus. He looked at her as she spoke and watched her twist her fingers nervously through one another. "As Severus said, we aren't certain of how that might work, or _if_ it will work. It isn't as though we can take the wyvern dagger to Harry's horcrux, you understand. And we haven't worked out how to kill the snake, Nagini. Horcruxes don't die easily. A Killing Curse won't do it."

Molly Weasley nodded and licked her bottom lip carefully. "Well, we'll just have to come up with something," she said in a matter-of-fact voice. She straightened her spine and looked directly at Severus. "And when do you mean for this great battle to take place?"

Severus shrugged rather helplessly. "As I said, it's all rather complicated no by how Nymphadora's gone to Malfoy Manor. Whatever assault we plan may not be in Wiltshire. It may be that we have to lure the Dark Lord directly to Potter."

"Use the boy as bait?" Arthur Weasley asked, looking uncomfortable. Severus did not answer.

"Mum, aren't you worried for Bill… and, erm, for Fleur?" Ginny Weasley interjected suddenly. "You said they'd gone with Tonks and Kingsley… I'm terrified for them. That house is hell."

Molly shut her eyes and shook her head. "Your brother Bill is a smart man," she reassured Ginevra. "And whether Fleur can use baking charms or not doesn't especially matter today. She's good with her wand in tight situations. I know they'll back. I know it."

The woman's fingers tightened around her knees and her eyes wrenched more tightly shut. Arthur Weasley wrapped his arm about Molly's shoulders and whispered something gently into her ear. Severus sighed and looked to Hermione.

"Should we go there?" she whispered, and he knew what she meant. She was asking whether she and Severus ought to go to Malfoy Manor. Severus shook his head resolutely.

"The moment they see me, they'll have precisely no compunction at firing a Killing Curse or three," Severus informed Hermione. "I shudder to think what they'd do to you. It's best that you and I stay far away from Malfoy Manor, or from any Death Eaters, until the moment we absolutely must face them in battle."

"I could go," Ginny offered in a brave, foolish swell of Gryffindor spirit. Severus scowled at the girl, who continued breathlessly. "I could go there, Disillusion myself, and figure out what's going on. See if we need reinforcements, or -"

"Ginny, you're staying right here," Arthur Weasley insisted. It was the first time Severus had ever heard the man be legitimately firm with any of his children. But Arthur's face had gone red with worry and anxiety, and his hands shook as he neatly folded them in his lap. "You've been gone from your mother far too long. She's been more worried about you than about anything else in her life. You're not going to Malfoy Manor. You're staying here. Tonks left to try to save her own father; the others are capable warriors. Either they will come back with Ted Tonks or they won't. Nothing we can do from here will influence that. And you'll not chase after them."

Ginny glared at her father for a split second, until the girl seemed to realize her parents were still wracked with guilt and grief about Ron's death. Severus watched the tense exchange of glances between the three Weasleys, and he watched Ginny's brown gaze give up. Finally the girl nodded.

"Then all we can do is wait," Severus shrugged. "It is as you say, Arthur. Either they will come back or they won't. In the meantime, we need to get contact to the twins and Lee Jordan. To Minerva McGonagall, Hagrid, and Neville Longbottom."

"How do you mean to contact all these people?" Arthur demanded. "It isn't as though we've got an owlery around here."

Hermione sighed rather loudly from beside Severus, and, curiously, Ginny nodded at her as the girls locked glances. Severus furrowed his brow and watched Hermione reach into her Expanded bag.

" _Accio_ Dumbledore's Army coin," she said clearly, and then she pulled her hand from the bag. She held out a shining Galleon toward Severus and said in a bit of a proud tone, "I enchanted coins with Protean Charms during the secret meetings of Dumbledore's Army. The others - our allies - have them. That includes Neville, and he'll know to contact Professor McGonagall and Hagrid. The way these work is that I put the date and time of the next DA meeting on them. Now, the only problem is -"

"Location." Severus nodded and took the Galleon from Hermione. He could tell at once that it was fake; it didn't have the proper heft of a legitimate Galleon. Still, the spellwork involved in enchanting so many coins to work properly together was impressive. He himself had quite a bit of experience with complicated Protean Charms, of course, having created the _Oraverit_ devices. Severus closed his fingers around the coin and reassured Hermione, "I believe I will be able to enchant this so that you can broadcast a location to the other coins. It may take a while, and it would obviously be best if I had more than one to use…"

"Here," Ginny said firmly. She pulled something from her own jumper pocket, and then she planted her own Galleon down upon the coffee table. Severus picked it up and could not stop himself from asking,

"Who else has them?"

"Harry, Neville, Luna, Ginny, and myself, of course. Fred and George. Hannah Abbott, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Michael Corner, Colin Creevey, Susan Bones, Lavender Brown, Parvati and Padma Patil… and others. There were quite a few. And, of course, Ron had one."

That made Severus nervous; the thought that Ronald Weasley might have had his copy of the coin on his person when he'd been killed. For all they knew, the Death Eaters had kept the coin as a trophy or a clue to the next level of power. The last thing Severus wanted to do was to broadcast sensitive information into a Protean object that had been on Ronald Weasley when he died.

"Give me a day or two to ponder this," he requested gently. "There may be a way to manipulate the Protean Charm to make it more selective… so that you only contact Longbottom's coin, you understand? Or the twins'. I'll need your help to think of a solution, Hermione."

"Of course," she nodded. Severus tucked the coins into his breast pocket, and then an uncomfortable silence fell upon the parlor. The air was heavy and thick with questions they all had but were far too tired to ask. At last, Molly Weasley said,

"Girls, will you come and help me make some tea and biscuits?"

Hermione and Ginny followed Molly into the little kitchen, and Severus was left alone with Arthur. He stared for a long moment out the window, ignoring Arthur entirely until the man said,

"She's just a child. And you will kill her if you die."

Severus shut his eyes. Arthur was referring, of course, to the fact that those bound by _Magnum Verbum Honoris_ were completely inseparable, even unto death. Severus gulped heavily and tried to collect a solid rebuttal. But all he could say was,

"Hermione is not a child. You know that full well, Arthur."

"You have to admit, Severus, that it's… _odd._ It's discomforting. You were her teacher, for goodness' sake. You were meant to keep the students of the school safe, and -"

"Never once did I fall derelict of that duty, even in the face of enormous adversity," Severus insisted, opening his eyes. He pinched his lips tightly and said, "If you must know, the way Hermione and I… got to know one another… the way we fell in love? I was giving her private lessons in wandless magic. I was trying to keep her safe. Once I learned what the Death Eaters had planned for Muggle-borns, I knew that Hermione Granger alone among such students had the ability to protect herself. So I gave her wandless lessons, and I fell in love with her. I fell in love with her for a great many reasons, Arthur, but I am no pervert. I would not have been attracted to a child. The fact that her mind works so uniquely, that she has an 'old soul,' made me blind to the uniform she wore. I found I was unable to pay attention to our respective roles in the school. I was in love with her. I apologize if that is 'discomforting' to you."

Arthur's cheeks were pink, and he looked as if there were a great bit more he wanted to say. But then Molly's shrill voice called from the kitchen,

"Gentlemen! Shortbread and tea are served at the table!"

* * *

By the time the clock chimed midnight, Hermione was tired of sitting around and waiting. She was so nauseated with anxiety about the still-missing group that she stepped outside for air. The thought of Tonks, whose belly was heavy with Remus Lupin's child, in mortal danger made Hermione want to vomit. Then there were Kingsley, Bill, and Fleur… there hadn't been a peep about them. Hermione could only imagine the worst at this point.

Nine hours missing, and no sign of any of them. They had to be dead, Hermione thought. Bill, Fleur, Kingsley, Tonks and her baby… they were all dead now. There was no other logical explanation. And, worst of all, there was nothing at all Hermione could do from Shell Cottage.

Molly and Arthur Weasley were sitting in the parlor with Ginny. For several hours, the family members had talked about Ron, about Harry, about all manner of inconsequential things. As the hours had dragged on, their tense banter had given way to long bits of silence during which everyone contemplated the likely fate of those at Malfoy Manor.

Hermione and Severus had spent a few hours attempting to modify the complicated Protean Charm she'd placed on the DA coins. They practiced for a while with books from the house, seeing whether they could communicate messages more selectively using the modified charm. There were still issues; the new Protean Charm had to be applied to each affected object in person. That was obviously a large obstacle. But Hermione's brain had become less amenable to troubleshooting magic as the night wore on, and eventually they'd decided they would address the coins in the morning.

Severus had gone outside an hour earlier. He had clearly felt like an intruder in the intimate Weasley family discussions as hope began to dissolve. Now, as the final stroke of midnight stopped vibrating in the grandfather clock, Hermione decided to join Severus outside. The cold night air would do her good, she thought. It would help clear her mind of the stifling, overwhelming sense of dread.

But when she opened the door that led to the beach walkway, Hermione realized it was raining. Far off in the distance, toward the crashing black waves, she could see the little outline of Severus' body. He stood on the shore, his cloaks billowing and whipping about him in the wind. Hermione frowned and swirled her wand in the air, starting at her shoes and going all the way up to her hair.

" _Corpus callidum_ ," she murmured. The Body Heat Charm took hold almost immediately, sending a pleasant swell of warmth through Hermione's veins. Despite the cold rain falling, Hermione felt comfortably warm as she stepped outside. She was getting wet, of course, and there were spells to help with that, too. But Hermione found that, so long as the rain wasn't cold on her skin, she did not mind it.

She trudged across the wet sand toward the black figure near the water. She thought about lighting her wand, but realized she relished the dark just now. Somehow, Severus sensed her coming, and he turned his head to the left toward her. His hair hung down into his eyes in limp black knots. His heavy clothes appeared to be soaked through, and his face was very serious in the darkness.

"Any word?" he asked simply, and Hermione shook her head. Severus' eyes flashed briefly, and Hermione knew it was because he was thinking the same thing as her. If Tonks and the others weren't back yet, then they weren't coming back.

"Go inside," Severus scolded Hermione as she approached. "This storm's only going to get worse."

Hermione frowned. "Why are you standing so far out here?" They were at least a hundred yards from the cottage now. Severus' chest puffed out as he took a deep breath. Then he said,

"I needed to think. Alone."

"Shall I leave you be, then?" Hermione wondered whether he'd told her to go inside because he was worried about her, or because he wanted solitude. Either way, she began to think perhaps she ought to listen to him. She did say, over the howl of the wind and rain, "I have a Body Heat Charm upon myself. I'm not cold."

Severus smirked at her and took a few steps toward her to close the gap. The waves crashed up beside him and the rain smacked Hermione's cheeks viciously. The night was anything but peaceful, and peace was why she'd initially come outside. Hermione was surprised when Severus held out his hand and cupped her jaw. His palm and fingers were rough and calloused, and as he dragged his skin along hers, Hermione shuddered. She let her mouth fall open on instinct and shut her eyes, drawing herself up closer to Severus' sodden body. She put her palms flat on his chest and murmured at a button,

"Everything's about to happen, isn't it? Either _he_ will be killed, or he won't. And Harry, and the rest of us. You and I. Our final fates are about to unleash themselves." Hermione felt her eyes burn and shook her head, still staring at Severus' chest. "I am not ready."

"You are. And, anyway, you must be ready. There is no choice," Severus drawled. He dragged Hermione's chin up until she was forced to meet his eyes. In the darkness and rain, Hermione struggled to focus on his eyes. Instead, she focused on the feel of his hands holding her face like a rare gem. She focused on the feel of his lips pressing firmly against hers, on the feel of his hard body against hers as she drew herself near to him.

She began to think that perhaps this was going to turn into an adventure - the two of them having mad sex with one another on a wet beach. But then Hermione whirled over her shoulder, for there had come an alarming series of _crack_ s from the air behind them. Hermione struggled to see in the dim nighttime light. All she could make out were Apparated bodies halfway back toward the house.

At first, Hermione felt a flood of relief churn through her. Tonks was safely back. Kingsley and Bill and Fleur… they'd come back. They were alive. But then she felt Severus suddenly grasp her shoulders, and he hissed,

"Those are Death Eaters. The way that one's moving… that's Travers. That's Mulciber."

Hermione felt her heart sink all the way into her stomach and then fly back up to her throat. Death Eaters at Shell Cottage? How had they learned of its location?

 _Torture_ , Hermione thought with a stab of horror. On instinct, she whipped her wand from her robes and made as though she were going to run back to the cottage.

"Wait!" Severus cried from beside her, wrenching her back toward him by her waist. He shook his head gravely and pulled his own wand out. Then he Disillusioned Hermione and did the same to himself. He vanished almost entirely into the black night.

"Have you got your wand out?" he asked in a rushed murmur, and all Hermione could say back was,

"Yes. Let's go; there's no time to waste!"

She and Severus began chasing the Death Eaters back toward the house. Hermione felt her chest burning as she ran; it was much more difficult to trek quickly through sand than it was to run on pavement. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't run fast enough. The shadowy figures were approaching the cottage. They were almost in the house. Hermione and Severus wouldn't make it. They wouldn't save Ginny, and Molly, and Arthur Weasley. Those three would be killed, just like the others.

" _Stupefy!"_ Severus' voice said from beside Hermione, as he seemed to realize that they weren't going to reach the Death Eaters in time. Hermione jabbed her wand forward and mimicked Severus.

" _STUPEFY!"_

Hermione watched the blue balls of light shoot forth, seemingly from thin air, and hurtle toward the Death Eaters' cloaks. Each of the men was shot up and backward a good distance, and then he each crumpled onto the beach, Stunned.

Hermione kept running, even as she felt Severus lift their Disillusionment Charms. Finally she and Severus came upon the slumped Death Eaters on the sand. Severus kept his wand carefully pointed at the black heaps, and he said in a breathless voice,

"Hermione, go into the cottage and tell the Weasleys that we have two prisoners."

* * *

" _Rennervate… Rennervate._ "

Severus pointed his wand first at Mulciber's chest, then at Travers'. The two wizards blinked their eyes slowly and glanced about the room. Then, probably on instinct, they both struggled against the Invisible Ropes Hermione had used to bind them to the chairs in the parlor. It was no use; Hermione's restraints held fast. Severus sniffed lightly and tipped his chin up, watching Mulciber curl his lip with disgust.

"Well, Severus, did you ever think we'd find ourselves here?"

Severus glanced around. "In a beach cottage in Cornwall? No, Mulciber. I did not suspect you and I would ever find ourselves together in a beach cottage in Cornwall."

It was a snide response, for of course that hadn't been what Mulciber meant. Mulciber had been a friend of Severus' during their school years (a fact that had greatly upset Lily Evans due to Mulciber's cruel and sadistic sense of humor). Severus had gotten a sour taste for Mulciber after he rejoiced in Lily's death, and relations between the two of them had been less than amicable ever since.

"You're so big a traitor, Snape, that I don't think even _you_ know what side you're on." Travers spat hard onto the floor at Severus' feet. Severus eyed the wad of saliva and took a half step back before aiming his wand at the disgusting puddle.

" _Tergeo,_ " he mumbled, and the insult was gone. He raised his eyes to Travers and Mulciber. There was no use with pretense now. It had probably been long obvious in Death Eater circles that Severus Snape was a traitor, a coward, and marked for execution. Severus lowered his wand and said in a very firm voice, "One chance, the both of you. Tell us where Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Bill and Fleur Weasley are."

"I won't say anything at all in the presence of your little Mudblood slut, Snape," Travers sneered. Severus felt an odd stab of concern that amplified when Travers continued, "Oh, _yes._ Dolores Umbridge looked further into all those documents your little whore provided to back up her claims of being half-blood. But it's all for shit, isn't it, Snape? She's a Mudblood, and you knew it all along. But you just couldn't keep it in your trousers, eh? You're as dirty as she is."

" _Crucio!_ " Severus jabbed his wand toward Travers' chest before he could calibrate his actions. A red jet of light burst onto Travers and exploded in a fiery web. Then the man began to convulse and shriek where he sat tied to his chair. Behind Severus, Ginny Weasley gasped in horror as her mother tried to convince her to leave the room. Severus could do nothing but glare at Travers while his Cruciatus Curse wracked the man. Finally he felt Hermione's hand on his right forearm, pushing his wand downward as she murmured,

"Enough, Severus."

When the curse dissipated, Travers glared at Severus and spat at his feet again. This time it was blood that came from his mouth instead of saliva, and Severus left it on the floorboards. He shrugged and looked to Mulciber.

"And you?" he droned. "Will you tell us where they are?"

"Severus," Mulciber said, his mouth twisting into an ugly grimace, "How many times have I stood up for you when Bellatrix insisted you were a traitor? Many times. Many times have I defended your loyalty to the Dark Lord. But I was wrong. Will we tell you where your little friends are? Fuck yourself, Severus."

" _Legilimens,_ " Severus replied smoothly. Mulciber was anything but an Occlumens, and his mind cracked wide open for Severus. He was forced to sort through all manner of unseemly personal memories as he thought hard about Nymphadora Tonks. At last, a memory came hurtling to the fore, and Severus let the images wash over him.

' _Listen… you've already killed my father. Don't do any more damage over something silly." Nymphadora Tonks hugged her swollen belly as she winced in pain. The dining room in Malfoy Manor was a mess - torn curtains, a still-smoldering velvet chair, and spatters of blood left over from Ted Tonks._

' _You and your little bastard will pay the price for your silence,' Yaxley was saying to Tonks. 'Tell us where Potter is.'_

' _As I've said a dozen times over… I have no idea,' Tonks insisted. She clutched her belly more tightly and shifted her knees on the carpet. 'Even if I knew, I probably wouldn't tell you, but I don't know. Honestly. I don't know.'_

' _That's it.' Mulciber raised his wand and began to incant, 'Cruci-'_

' _Put your wand down, Mulciber.'_

 _Mulciber whirled over his shoulder to see Lord Voldemort striding confidently into the dining room. Mulciber lowered his wand at once and bowed to the Dark Lord, just as Yaxley and Travers did beside him._

' _My Lord,' Mulciber murmured quietly. Voldemort did not acknowledge him, instead saying sharply,_

' _There is a certain… finesse… to gaining information, Mulciber. Torture this woman any further and it will all be for nothing. Step aside.'_

 _Mulciber did as he was ordered. He pulled himself over to the fireplace and leaned one arm upon the mantle. He watched with rapt attention as Voldemort took a few more steps toward the prisoner. Tonks' normally stoic expression gave way for a moment to a look of abject terror. She averted her wide eyes, finally settling her gaze on the carpet as she mumbled,_

' _I don't know anything. Let me go. For the sake of my child, if you've any humanity -'_

' _For the sake of your child,' Voldemort repeated coldly. 'Hmm. Yes. There is that, isn't there? You are aware, Nymphadora, that it is very, very possible to take your child away from you and still get the information I desire?'_

 _Tonks' back began to heave with quiet sobs as she begged, 'Please. Please, I don't know anything.'_

' _Legilimens.'_

It was very odd for Severus to watch Mulciber's memory like this, to be fully engrossed in a Legilimency session and to watch a memory of the Dark Lord doing the same. But Severus pressed on, watching in Mulciber's mind as Voldemort searched Tonks' memories.

 _Finally, Voldemort pulled out of Tonks' head, leaving the witch gasping for air and looking nauseated._

' _She does not know where Harry Potter is,' Voldemort declared smoothly. He lowered his wand and dragged his spindly finger tips over his bare, grey head. He turned to Mulciber and said, 'She was last at Shell Cottage. It's protected by the Fidelius Charm, and she is not the Secret-Keeper. But I can see clearly enough that's where she's been. It's a desolate little place that belongs to the Blood Traitor Weasley family. Shell Cottage, just outside Tinworth in Cornwall. Go there now with Travers; there will be some members of the Order of the Phoenix there, no doubt.'_

' _My Lord,' said Travers, 'What shall we do about the ones we find there?'_

' _Anyone but Potter, go ahead and kill,' Voldemort said, as if it were nothing. 'If you find Potter, bring him to me. Do your best before killing the others to find out where Potter is. Yaxley, take Nymphadora and her little bastard down to the dungeons with the others. Oh, and bring me a few of Bill Weasley's fingers; I should like to send them with Mulciber and Travers.'_

 _Yaxley frowned deeply and blinked. 'A few of his fingers, My Lord?'_

' _Are you unable to cast a severing charm?' Voldemort raised his eyebrows, making his grey paper-thin skin crinkle in an ugly fashion. 'There is no better motivation for uncooperative parents than a direct threat to their children. Molly and Arthur Weasley are still mourning the death of poor Ronald, I'm sure. Take them a few of young William's fingers, and I should think they'll tell you exactly where Potter is if they know. Go now, all of you.'_

* * *

Severus yanked himself from Mulciber's mind and felt sick. He realized the irony of how what he did so neatly mirrored the scene in the memory he'd pulled. He was torturing and using Legilimency upon Mulciber the same way that the Death Eaters and Voldemort had done with Tonks. But, he assured himself, at the very least his intentions were good.

He thought for a moment about trying to find Bill Weasley's fingers on Mulciber, but he decided against it. Instead, he cast his wand in a careful slice across the front of Mulciber and then Travers, and whispered, ' _Petrificus Totalus. Petrificus Totalus.'_

The two were immediately frozen, paralyzed except for their eyes. Severus sighed and turned to Hermione, Molly and Arthur, and Ginevra.

"Nymphadora and the others are at Malfoy Manor. As far as I can tell, they are alive." He brought his gaze to Hermione and nodded firmly. "Go outside and make a Muggle car."

" _Make a Muggle car?_ " Hermione repeated, sounding baffled. She threw up her hands and demanded, "How on Earth am I meant to do that?"

"Transfiguration and Conjuring should do the trick," Severus said tightly. "I know you are capable of this, Hermione, and I need you to do it now. Take Arthur with you; he knows all about Muggle cars and can tell you the parts you need. Go. Hurry."

Hermione's mouth fell open, but she nodded quickly and turned to go out the front door of the cottage. Arthur Weasley followed her, muttering something about a drive shaft.

"Miss Weasley," Severus said, turning to Ginny, "I think you ought to go back to Grimmauld Place. This cottage will not be safe now that the Dark Lord knows of its location. Please inform Mr. Potter and Miss Lovegood of what we've learnt here today. Stay there with them; a few solid _Protego Totalum_ wards about the place wouldn't hurt, either."

"Right." Ginny nodded, looking to her mother for a fleeting moment before she said, "You and Dad will be along soon, won't you?"

"Of course, dear." Molly Weasley's lips were white, but she nodded vigorously and petted Ginevra's hair. Severus could not conceptualize the horror that must be coursing through Molly Weasley just now. Her son Ronald had been killed at Malfoy Manor, and Ginny very nearly. Now her son Bill was being held prisoner there. It was too much for one mother, Severus thought. As Molly and Ginny headed toward the door, Severus hurried to look in Mulciber's pockets.

He tried not to vomit when he felt the chilled, soft squish of gore inside Mulciber's right jacket pocket. He sighed and pulled out three human fingers, the ones Voldemort had ordered Mulciber to bring from Bill Weasley. Severus swallowed a throat full of bile and pointed his wand at the fingers.

" _Evanesco,_ " he murmured, and then he wiped his blood-stained fingers on Mulciber's dark jacket. Severus pointed his wand at Travers and stared at the man's infuriated eyes. "Don't worry, Travers. Soon enough you'll have no idea you ever hated me." He gripped his wand more tightly and twisted it to the right. " _Obliviate._ "

There was a little vibration as Severus wiped a significant part of Travers' memory. He could feel the most relevant memories, as well as others associated with the wizard's identity, fading away into nothingness. Severus did the same to Mulciber. Neither wizard stirred; they were still paralyzed. But their blinking eyes went utterly blank. Severus quickly cast a memory replacement charm upon each of them, filling in blanks with new information. It drained a substantial amount of energy from Severus to do so, and he felt a stab of pain in his abdomen as the new memories drifted into the wizards.

" _Finite Incantatem. Relashio,_ " he said, and Travers and Mulciber were suddenly freed from their bindings.

Severus quickly tucked his wand away, before either Travers or Mulciber could realize what was going on. Behind him, he could hear Molly Weasley's quiet footsteps coming back into the room. The woman said nothing, which was probably for the best.

"So, we'll be back next week to check the plumbing work for you, Mr. Snape," Mulciber said, holding out his hand for Severus to shake. It felt odd to do so, since wizard culture did not partake regularly in hand-shaking. It was one way that Severus knew the Obliviation and memory replacement had worked. He shook Mulciber's hand, and then Travers.

"Please don't hesitate to call us if you need us back out before then," Travers said to Molly. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Snape."

"Oh. Yes. Of course." Molly Weasley nodded fervently and glanced out the window. "Your car's outside," she whispered, sounding frightened.

"Right, then. Good evening." Mulciber inclined his head politely as he and Travers headed out the front door. Severus looked out the window to see that Hermione and Arthur had either hid or Disillusioned themselves. In any case, they weren't anywhere in sight.

Travers and Mulciber opened the door of what appeared to be a beige Morris Marina. Severus felt queasy with anticipation as he waited to see how well Hermione's handiwork functioned. He breathed a large sigh of relief when the car turned over, the headlights clicked on, and the two former wizards drove off the beach.

"I had my doubts about the transmission," Hermione's voice said, and Severus whirled to see her beside him, looking out the window. "And I confess I knew very little about making velveteen upholstery."

"It was masterfully done," Severus said honestly.

"As, it would seem, was your wiping of their memories. Who did they think they were?" Hermione asked.

"Muggle plumbers," Severus answered. He looked beyond Hermione to see Arthur Weasley cradling his wife's head upon his shoulder. Severus sighed and tried not to sound harsh as he said, "We need to leave. It isn't safe here anymore. We should go at once."

* * *

"There. That should do it." Severus held out Hermione's fake Galleon, and she took it with shaking fingers. She turned the gold coin over in her hand and demanded,

"How do you know?"

Severus pinched his lips and huffed, "Hermione, the modified Protean Charm has worked beautifully now on ten different pairs of items. I promise you, this will work."

Hermione nodded. She and Severus had both been awake for about forty-eight hours now, aided by liberal doses of Wiggenweld Potion as they worked on the DA coin conundrum. It seemed they had finally found a solution, and Hermione asked,

"What date, then? What should I inscribe?"

"May I do it?" Severus asked, more warmly than Hermione would have expected of him given his sheer exhaustion. She nodded and handed the coin back over to him. Severus pointed his wand at the coin and then held it up to his lips. " _First of March, at eight o'clock. Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire."_

He shut his eyes and muttered a long incantation, and Hermione watched as the coin glowed for a brief moment in his hand. She gulped and asked,

"So… Neville will get that message? And the others?"

"The ones on the list you gave me," Severus assured her.

Hermione stared into the fire burning in their bedroom at Grimmauld Place. She chewed her lip and thought about what was happening. The first of March was still nearly a week away, but they had no choice but to wait. They had to give Neville and the other Hogwarts students the chance to actually get to Malfoy Manor. They would need to sneak beyond the Anti-Apparition wards, and this was no easy task under Carrow leadership at the school.

Hermione and Severus had a back-up plan for notification. The portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black in Grimmauld Place had agreed to use his location at Hogwarts to get word to Professor McGonagall. Hermione could only hope that on the first of March, there would be a sizeable force representing the Order of the Phoenix and Harry's allies.

"Harry is going to die next week," she said suddenly, as the full force of that knowledge socked her belly. She turned to Severus, and he said honestly,

"There is no avoiding this, Hermione. This is what it's come to."

"Yes. I know." Hermione was very grateful now that Severus had given her a long-lasting and powerful contraceptive potion back at Hogwarts. She could not imagine being in Tonks' situation - pregnant, with her own life and the life of her child threatened. She knew there was a very good chance that she and Severus would die. But sending the message to the others through the coins felt heavy on her heart; there was something profoundly ugly about bringing others into the fray.

"Hermione," Severus said quietly, and she turned to him with expectation. He looked more tired than she'd ever seen him. His stringy black hair had gone dull, and there were more grey hairs in there than Hermione remembered. His face was lined with bags and wrinkles brought on by fatigue, and he frowned. "I never got a chance to tell you… that car you made at Shell Cottage. It was truly astounding. It was a ridiculous thing to ask you to make; a witch of your age couldn't be expected to… but you must understand, Hermione, that I asked _you_ to do it because in that moment it was very important that Mulciber and Travers have a way of leaving the cottage that wasn't Magical. And I knew you could do it. A witch of your age couldn't be expected to make a Muggle car, but _you_ can be expected to do that. Because you are not normal."

Hermione scoffed and flicked her eyes down to the fire. Severus raised her chin and pressed his lips against hers, and he whispered again,

"You aren't normal, Hermione Granger. You're extraordinary. I love you."

Hermione tried to swallow the lump in her throat so she could answer him. It didn't work. She let him kiss her again, feeling overwhelmed by fatigue as the Wiggenweld Potion began to wear off.

"We need to sleep," she said firmly. "We've been up for two days. We need to sleep."

"I badly need to be clean," Severus insisted. "I can use Magic to clean myself, or I can go and take a shower. And you can join me. Then we'll go to sleep."

"Severus…" Hermione shook her head and smiled demurely. "This house is full of people who have no interest in us showering together over their heads."

"I don't care about any of them." Severus ensnared his fingers in Hermione's hair and kissed her again, more firmly this time. "Come and stand under the warm water with me and let me rub soap into your shoulders."

That _did_ sound delightful. Hermione stifled a yawn and nodded. She followed Severus from their bedroom into the white-tiled bathroom down the corridor. Molly, Arthur, and Ginny Weasley were downstairs with Harry and Luna. As far as Hermione knew, they were reading or playing Gobstones or just sitting and talking in anxious murmurs. For the past several days, Hermione's only interaction with the rest of the group had been when Ginny and Luna had brought up food while she and Severus worked on the coins.

Hermione knew that Luna, Harry, and Ginny would get the message on their own DA coins, so they would know that Hermione and Severus had been successful. Just now, Hermione did not feel like joining the rest downstairs or talking with anyone but Severus. She was tired, and worried, and she suddenly thought a two-person shower seemed just about right for the circumstances.

Severus flicked his wand at the shower, which began to pour hot water from the spout. There was an old-fashioned claw foot tub beneath the shower spigot, and a white curtain surrounded the thing. Hermione dimmed the sconces on the wall a bit and shut the door, locking it manually.

"Severus," she said quietly, unsure of whether he could hear her over the shower's stream. He turned to face her, his hands moving quickly down his front as he unbuttoned his tunic. Hermione pushed away the tingling coil of arousal in her belly at the sight of that. She sighed and said, "We shouldn't do this. We should… I don't know. Go to sleep for a few hours, and then wake up and prepare for -"

"Yes. We'll sleep and then prepare," Severus said, continuing to unbutton his tunic. "But I should like to be clean during all of that. You and I have been up for days now working. I need a shower. Stay here with me."

Hermione shut her eyes and dug her teeth into her bottom lip. He was right, of course. There was nearly a week until the planned assault on Malfoy Manor. There was very little more Hermione could do until then. And, for better or worse, they both needed to bathe. And they _were_ married, and probably going to die, and -

"Kiss me," Hermione whispered frantically. She rushed forward toward Severus and pushed his tunic from his chest. Severus took Hermione's face in his hands and did as she asked. He tasted warm and savory, and Hermione squealed gently against his mouth.

His hands were all over her, briskly unfastening the buttons of her blouse and wrenching her bra open behind her back with one hand. He was yanking down her denims, which she kicked away, and he kept kissing her with an urgency she'd never quite sensed from him before.

"We're going to die," Hermione whispered against his lips. "We're going to die. All of us."

"No." Severus said the word sharply, almost cruelly, and he crushed Hermione's lips with his for a moment as he set his wand down by the sink. "We are not going to die. You will not leave me, and I will not leave you. We will triumph, and after the Dark Lord is gone forever, you and I will grow old and happy. You will be a mother. You will be on a Chocolate Frog card for the wondrous things you accomplish. You will be happy. Do you understand me?"

Hermione nodded, but she felt weak and dizzy as the bathroom filled with warm steam. She let Severus pull her into the shower, and she felt disconnected from herself for a long while. He washed her hair, dragging his fingertips around her scalp in lazy circles, and then told her to rinse herself off. She did the same for him, massaging his head and watching the white foam stream down his skin when he moved under the water.

He washed her body then, pulling a bar of soap around her body and using his hands to scrub her. His large palms and calloused fingers felt good on Hermione's slick skin. After a while, she began to find herself again, and her whole body started to come alive. She pressed her back against Severus and felt the prod of his hardening manhood on the small of her back. She covered his hands with hers as he washed her. Severus groaned quietly behind her, and the hardness at her back grew more stiff by the moment.

"Shhh, Severus," Hermione murmured, squeezing his hands. "People will hear."

"I cast a _Muffliato_ on the door five minutes ago," Severus informed her. "No one will hear."

As if to prove his point, he drifted his hands to more strategic locations on Hermione's body. His left hand went to her chest, where he cupped and fondled her breast. His right hand went lower, between her thighs, and he used the pad of his forefinger to tease her entrance a bit. Hermione gasped and reached desperately for the single pipe that led up to the shower head. There were no walls in this shower, she thought with regret. She would have liked for Severus to take her against a wall.

But she settled for him touching her from behind, for it felt absolutely marvelous. He used his left hand to push the heavy veil of her hair around her shoulder. Then she felt the hot warmth of his mouth latch onto her neck, and he used his tongue to lathe her skin. Hermione moaned aloud, unable to stop herself, and hoped that Severus had told the truth about muting the room.

"You brilliant, beautiful woman," Severus hissed into Hermione's ear, sending a shiver down her spine. His hand danced more fervently against her nub, and Hermione bucked her hips against his touch. He snaked his left arm around her torso and yanked her closer to him, his fingers quickening between her legs. Hermione moaned again and whispered his name, and he said into her ear, "Come for me, sweet girl. Come on… fall apart for me."

Hermione very nearly did just that, for the feel of his hands on her wet skin and the warm buzz of his voice were almost too much. She reached desperately around behind her and tried to hold his hips, but he seized her wrists in his left hand and whirled her around to face him. She stared up at his face for a moment, panting a bit as she studied the way the water streamed over his skin. His black eyes shone with want, and then he shocked her by lowering himself onto his knees.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Hermione asked impulsively. Severus did not answer; he arranged himself awkwardly in front of her in the tub and urged her to part her legs a bit. Hermione gasped loudly and clutched at his wet hair when she felt his tongue on her clit. He dragged his tongue upon her in long, heavy strokes, and then suckled at her entrance. He moaned against her womanhood, his hands clutching at her hips. Hermione tightened the grip of her fingers in his hair when she felt herself nearing the edge of her bliss. It was a struggle now just to stand up, she thought. She was going to slip and fall. She was going to pass out. She was going to -

"I'm going to come, Severus," she declared, feeling her cheeks go hot with embarrassment after she said it. But she didn't have time to be embarrassed, for she was suddenly hurtled headlong into a powerful climax. She could feel her body shaking and clenching as her ears rang and her brain went foggy. She knew she was repeating Severus' name as she gasped and moaned. The pleasure seemed almost too strong, and it went on for what felt like an abnormally long while. By the time Hermione came to again, she was being cradled against Severus' chest as he murmured with a chuckle,

"Good girl. Sorry about that; I admit I cast a _Gaudens Maximus_ upon you _._ You aren't the only one who knows naughty spells, Miss Granger."

"Severus!" she scolded, digging her fingernails into his chest and looking up at his smirking face. He wasn't sorry, she could see. Well, neither was she, if she was honest. She wrapped her hand around the slick length of his erection, stroking him as the warm water fell upon them. Severus bucked his hips hard against Hermione's hand, and she knew that he wouldn't last a moment inside of her. He was too worked up. His mouth hung open, and his breath came rickety and fast through his parted lips. His hands trembled upon Hermione's hips. She could feel the way he throbbed and twitched in her hand, how very close he was to finishing.

"What was that spell?" she teased. "Oh, aren't you glad now that you taught me wandless magic?" She watched a flash of amusement and hesitation come over Severus' face, and she chuckled. She shut her eyes for a moment and whipped her magic up into a frenzy. It burned her throat where the magic coalesced into a white-hot, energetic ball. She pushed the magic out through the palm of her right hand and said firmly, " _Gaudens Maximus._ "

"Fucking hell, Hermione," Severus gasped. He very rarely swore, so Hermione's eyebrows flew up in alarm. His cock grew almost unnaturally hard in her her hand, and she glanced down to see the purplish, swollen tip against her belly. Then his seed came, a copious amount in insistent volleys. Hermione was more aroused by the sight of him coming against her skin than she'd been by just about anything else. Severus thrust his hips hard against her, grinding himself onto her skin as he came and came. His hands squeezed her hips so tightly that she knew there would be bruises. At long last, Severus' member began to soften in Hermione's palm, and his raspy breathing quieted. He pulled her against his body and let the water rinse them both.

"The Wiggenweld Potion's long worn off," Hermione noted, "and finishing like that would make me sleepy in the best of times. Now I don't think I shall be able to stay awake another five minutes."

Severus took the cue and shut off the shower. He reached out into the bathroom for a few towels, holding one out to Hermione.

"We are not going to die," he told her four minutes later, as they lay curled up together beneath the heavy blankets. Hermione looked at his face in the darkness, at the way he stared at the ceiling.

"How can you possibly promise me something like that?" she asked, and Severus pinched his lips tightly.

"I will not let you die, Hermione Granger," he vowed. "I will kill whomever I must. I will do anything - _anything_ \- to ensure that you grow old and happy. Next week, we go to battle filled with angry resolve, but no fear. Do you understand? I will not let you die."

"I won't let you die, either, Severus Snape," Hermione assured him. He did not laugh or mock her. He just fell asleep, and Hermione did the same.

* * *

"Potter."

Severus watched as Harry Potter turned over his shoulder with an impatient expression. Behind him, Hermione and Luna were ensuring that Hermione's Expanded bag contained sufficient medical supplies. Ginny Weasley and her parents were reviewing the most useful defense spells, as well as establishing a meeting place at Malfoy Manor. Harry Potter did not look like he had time to bother with Severus, but nonetheless Severus held out his hand. In his palm gleamed the Golden Snitch that Albus Dumbledore had insisted they have today. Severus cocked an eyebrow.

"You'll be wanting this, I think."

Potter took the Snitch and nodded firmly. "Thank you, Professor." He tucked it away in his robes, and Severus said sharply,

"If you die tonight, Potter… and there's something beyond all this… give your mother my best, will you?"

Harry looked enormously confused and opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by Ginny Weasley grasping his elbow.

"It's ten to eight," she said gently. "We need to go."

"Right," Severus said. "I shall go ahead first, taking the pendant _Oraverit_ with me. If you have heard nothing from me within the next ten minutes, follow me using side-along Apparition. Hermione has the pocket-watch."

He nodded crisply to Molly and Arthur, then to Ginny, Luna Lovegood, and Harry Potter. Finally he let his eyes rest on Hermione, taking in the way her pretty brown eyes gleamed. Suddenly Severus did not care how much a fool he looked in front of Potter, or Arthur Weasley. He put his lips into a line and said to Hermione in a firm voice,

"By tomorrow night, you and I shall be in my house in Spinner's End, Hermione. Safe. Together. That's how this is going to end. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Severus," she whispered, her voice cracking a bit. "I understand."

Severus gave them all one last fleeting glance and then charged out the back door toward the cramped garden. He whirled hard to his right, concentrating on Malfoy Manor. The pinching blackness surrounded him for a sickening moment, and then he landed elegantly upon the grounds of the manor. There was no _crack_ , no hard crash onto the ground. It was a smooth and delicate transition, and Severus glanced around as though he knew the place intimately. He did, after all; he'd been here more times than he wished to recount.

He'd landed outside the garden gate at Malfoy Manor, and there was a quiet buzz around the place being emitted by the protective wards. If Severus or anyone else had tried to simply walk through the gate, there would be chaos. He knew the Death Eaters had placed Caterwauling Charms, flesh-burning alarms, and catchment hexes on the place. But there was no one more accomplished than Severus Snape at undoing wards; he'd come up with many of the anti-ward spells himself. He raised his wand and cast it about in a great sweeping arc.

" _Perderobice,_ " he said in a firm tone. " _Perderobice Totalum… Diluo Maledicta. Diluo Portam. Purgando Semitam…_ _Diluo Maledicta Totalum._ "

One by one, the wards gave way, crackling and dissolving into the air until the whole area was still and quiet. Severus coughed gently, feeling rather spent for a moment at how much magic he'd thrust from his body. He shut his eyes and let his magic restore itself within his abdomen.

"Severus?"

"Careful, Minerva. Yeh don't know what he's capable of doin'."

Severus rolled his eyes and turned around to see a cluster of figures coming out of the woods. There was Minerva McGonagall, and the great heaving figure of Hagrid. There was little Filius Flitwick, who looked smaller than ever beside Hagrid, and there was wild-eyed Sybill Trelawney. Behind the teachers came a small parade of students that Severus recognized at once: Terry Boot, Ernie Macmillan, Padma and Parvati Patil, Seamus Finnigan, Michael Corner, Lavender Brown, Colin Creevey, and many others. There was a gaggle of House-Elves, too, with the group spearheaded by the obnoxious one Severus knew to be called Dobby. Severus felt a stab of anxiety at the number of underaged witches and wizards who had come. He glared at Minerva for a long moment, seeing the fear in her pale eyes, and he hissed,

"They're too young. Why have you brought them all?"

"Once word got out through the right channels, Severus, I couldn't stop them coming for all the world," Minerva declared. Before Severus could argue back to her, another figure came padding out from the trees. It was Neville Longbottom, looking much taller than Severus remembered. In his hands he clutched the ruby-embedded hilt of a weapon Severus recognized at once as the Sword of Gryffindor.

"Longbottom, why do you have a priceless artifact in a place like this?" Severus droned, and Neville Longbottom flinched.

"Well, sir…" He shifted on his feet and clutched the sword more tightly, "I was informed by the portrait of Heliotrope Wilkins, the one in the fourth-floor corridor, that the portrait of Dumbledore wanted to speak with me. I was told how to get into the office, Professor, and when I did, Professor Dumbledore… or, rather, his portrait… well, I was told to bring this here tonight. I was told it was very important."

Severus pinched his lips tightly and eyed the boy up and down. He had all the awkwardness that his father had possessed, but there was something deeply determined in the boy, too. Severus gave Neville a single nod and turned his attention toward the series of quiet pops to his left.

Out of thin air, there appeared yet another cluster of reinforcements. Fred and George Weasley and their old friend Lee Jordan had Apparated onto the grounds. Severus wondered vaguely how it was that the boys had learned of tonight's happenings, but then he thought Molly Weasley probably had ensured some way of staying in touch with her twin sons. George Weasley eyed Severus with great suspicion, and Severus tried to ignore the place on the boy's head where his ear was missing. That had been Severus' doing, however unintentionally.

Then there were a few more crackles, and Severus turned to see Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Arthur, Molly, and Harry Potter beside him. They'd all linked arms, and Hermione clutched the pocket-watch _Oraverit_ tightly in her hand. Once they landed, the group separated, and Harry Potter's face broke into a wide grin.

"Brilliant," he breathed, nodding around at the group assembled. Severus flicked his eyes about and realized it was rather an impressive showing. There were twenty-six of them standing outside the gate now, and if they managed to free the prisoners in the dungeons, there would be thirty on their side. There were a dozen or so House-Elves, too, and Severus had long ago learned not to underestimate the magical powers of Elves. He raised his eyes up to the looming house and thought perhaps they had a fighting chance, after all.

"There will be a few dozen in the manor," Severus informed the group matter-of-factly. "We aim to accomplish several things. One goal, obviously, is to free the prisoners in the dungeons. The other is to get Potter access to the Dark Lord - but _only_ after the snake has been killed. That must be accomplished quickly."

"Well, that's why I've got this," Neville Longbottom said in a shaking voice, holding up the sword he'd brought. "Professor Dumbledore, or at least his portrait, told me I should use this on the snake. I don't really know anything about killing snakes, but I promise I'll do my best."

Severus did not have very much confidence in Longbottom's ability to go charging toward the snake and successfully kill it. He narrowed his eyes and said,

"Best you give that sword to someone else, Longbottom."

"With all respect, Professor Snape, I was told by Professor Dumbledore's portrait that it's important _I_ use the sword on the snake. Not sure why, sir. I'm just doing as I've been told." His hands tightened protectively on the hilt of the sword, and Severus frowned.

"Everyone turn to the person beside you and Disillusion them," he said in a crisp voice. "Head to toe, concentrate hard on the blending. It's important that they can't get a solid take on who's coming at them. Potter… you'll want your cloak on, too."

He watched as everyone began to Disillusion one another. One by one, the allied combatants disappeared into the air. Hermione touched the buttons on Severus' chest, and he glanced down at her tense face. She nodded and raised her wand, swirling it about Severus carefully. He watched his arms and hands disappear. He raised his own wand and Disillusioned Hermione, feeling a pang of anxiety when she vanished from him.

"Tomorrow night, we'll be in Spinner's End," he whispered, just as he'd done at Grimmauld Place. The only response he got was a swirling mixture of fear and determination coming strongly through their bond.

"Let's go. There's no time to waste. I've already taken down the wards. Once we get inside, move _quickly_. Do not hesitate to use whatever force is necessary. Tonight is the end of all this madness." Severus' voice was firm, though he appeared to be speaking to empty space. He turned over his shoulder and flicked his wand, and the gates swung open.

* * *

" _Crucio!"_

"Narcissa, go that way! Go find Draco!"

"Lavender? Wake up, Lavender!"

Hermione's head vibrated and rattled with the confused shouts and shrieked curses around her. The foyer of Malfoy Manor was alight with magic. Some flew in red and green jets of light. Other stray bits of magic crackled through the air, and Hermione felt as though she were on fire.

She watched as Neville Longbottom appeared out of thin air. Someone had located his running footsteps and had taken off his Disillusionment Charm. Neville paid no attention to how his disguise had vanished. He hurtled through the moonlight chamber, his hands clenching the hilt of Gryffindor's sword.

"Hermione! Look out!"

Hermione recognized Ginny's voice behind her. She turned around just in time to see Bellatrix Lestrange jabbing her wand in the air.

" _Ava-"_

" _STUPEFY!"_

The blue jet of light flew from Hermione's wand so forcefully that she slid backward at least a meter on the marble floor. The Stunning Spell hit Bellatrix Lestrange square in her chest, and she flew up and backward and smacked into the wall behind her. Her body went limp and crumpled down to the ground with a sickening crunch, and Hermione wondered for a fleeting instant whether she'd killed Bellatrix with the powerful spell. But she didn't have time to think too much more about it, for there was a piercing, powerful cry from the other side of the room.

Hermione's eyes went wide with terror when she saw Lord Voldemort, his robes a whirl of grey around his pale, thin form. His arms were raised and his mouth had fallen open in a cry of rage as Neville Longbottom hacked his sword through the snake Nagini. In one clean swing of the blade, the snake's head went flying off. Blood sprayed everywhere. Then the entire snake, in all its heft, began to dissolve into the air as if it had never existed. Voldemort's fury seemed to increase exponentially, and before he could murder her old friend, Hermione screamed,

"Get out of here, Neville!"

Suddenly Neville disappeared, turning hard to his right and Disapparating with a loud _crack_. Hermione felt a flush of satisfaction, especially when she saw the way Voldemort's face twisted into an anguished grimace. She glanced about to see spurts of light fired by the Disillusioned Order members, and occasionally a frenzied Death Eater would crumple to the ground. Hermione wondered briefly where Severus was, then realized she did not have time to worry about such a thing.

She remembered where the dungeons were, according to Severus. She made her way quickly through around the large staircase, back into the sweeping, wood-paneled corridor. She dashed down the carpet runner, until she heard a voice behind her say firmly,

" _Impedimenta._ "

Somehow, Hermione managed to whirl around and slash her wand through the air at the first syllable of the spell. She blocked the curse, and it dissipated into the air with a bang. She looked up to see Draco Malfoy striding confidently down the corridor. He sneered at her, though his eyes did not look as convinced as his twisted mouth.

"Granger," he said, raising his wand again. "I'm warning you."

" _Imperio._ " Hermione jabbed her wand toward Draco, and a puff of green smoke shot through the air and spread over his form. His pale eyes went dull for a long moment, and his spine straightened into perfect posture. Behind him, Hermione could hear the chaos in the foyer continuing. She tried to steady her hand and her mind, and she said firmly to Draco, "Take me to the dungeons where the prisoners are."

"Yes. Of course." Draco walked beyond Hermione with smooth steps, gesturing for her to follow him.

"Wait." Hermione said, and Draco turned to her with raised white eyebrows. "Give me your wand," Hermione ordered him, and Draco handed his wand over without question. Hermione tucked the hawthorn wand into her robes and nodded, following Draco down the corridor until they reached a doorway at the end. Draco pushed the handle, and the door gave way. There was blackness beyond the threshold, and Hermione frowned.

"Since I haven't got my wand, perhaps you'd prefer to illuminate the space, Madam Granger," said Draco in a conciliatory tone. Hermione was glad her Imperius Curse had worked so well, given how quickly she'd been forced to cast it. She nodded and muttered,

" _Lumos._ " The tip of her wand glowed white, and she followed Draco down a winding, slippery set of stone stairs that seemed to go on forever. Finally, they came to a dank, open space with a few lit sconces on the wall. " _Nox,_ " Hermione whispered, and her wand went dark. She glanced around the dungeons and saw a few figures huddled against the stone walls.

There was a warded gate in the entry to the dungeons, and Hermione tried hard to remember the counter-ward spells Severus had taught her. She aimed her wand at the portcullis and said,

" _Diluo Portam. Diluo Maledicta. Purgando Semitam…_ "

Suddenly the portcullis made a few loud wrenching and clicking sounds, as though invisible locks had sprung open. The heavy iron gate began to rise up from the floor, and it disappeared into the ceiling.

"Tonks?" Hermione called out, and there was a small gasp from the far side of the room.

In the dim light, Hermione saw several figures emerge from the shadows. Fleur Weasley had never looked so ragged in all the time Hermione had known her; her lovely blonde hair was filthy and had been shorn with an obvious hacking motion of a wand. Hermione figured that had to have been Bellatrix Lestrange's work. Fleur's face was bruised and scabbed, too. But her injuries were nothing compared with Bill Weasley's. Hermione was shocked to see the red-haired man cradling his right hand, and she felt queasy when she saw that it was bandaged and that several fingers were missing.

Tonks waddled forward from the darkness, her right eye socket blackened as though she'd been punched or kicked. She carefully cradled her swollen belly, and she said to Hermione in a grave voice,

"What's going on up there?"

"We've come to save you all," Hermione informed her, "and to kill Voldemort. Where is Kingsley?"

"I am here."

Kingsley's voice was strangely weak, and Hermione gasped when she saw him lying on his side upon the floor. Hermione quickly pulled her Expanded bag open and rifled about in it until she pulled out a small vial of Invigoration Draught. She dashed over to where Kingsley lay huddled, and she cracked open his lips and poured the whole vial into his mouth.

Kingsley sputtered and coughed a bit, but within a few moments he'd managed to push himself up onto his hands. Hermione helped him off the ground, and she said to Draco Malfoy in a firm voice,

"Draco, you stay here."

"Of course," Draco nodded. Hermione sighed and pulled Draco's wand from her robes. She handed it over to Tonks and said in an apologetic tone to the others,

"It's the only one I've got, I'm afraid. The rest of you will have to run."

"Or, we can take wands from ze other Death Eaters who haff fallen," Fleur said defiantly. She crossed her arms over her thin chest and nodded. Hermione flicked her eyes up.

"Right. When you get upstairs, Tonks, go out the back and go back to Grimmauld Place. This is no place for your baby. I know you want to help, but -"

"Hermione," Tonks said quietly, "Remus died in this house. I don't need to remind you of the circumstances. I am not interested in running away this time."

Hermione looked Tonks in the eyes for a very long moment, and then she nodded. Finally she whispered, "Good luck, then." She led the pack of prisoners back up the stairs from the dungeons, leaving Draco Malfoy behind.

* * *

Severus yanked himself under the enormous stairwell. He had to catch his breath. He'd duelled with Thorfinn Rowle, Gibbon, Avery, and Antonin Dolohov. One by one, the Death Eaters had fallen to Severus' wand. He hadn't intended on taking so many lives tonight, but he'd truly been left with no choice. Severus wondered absently whether his soul would be utterly destroyed by so much killing. He didn't have time to contemplate that just now, though. There were still curses flying about, and from the far side of the foyer, the Dark Lord's voice rang out.

"Harry Potter! Come to me and meet your fate!"

Severus peered around the stairwell and saw Potter's figure appear out of nowhere. He must have thrown off his father's cloak, Severus thought.

"Harry, don't do it!"

Severus was shocked to hear Hermione's voice cry out, and he was utterly horrified to see her appear just a few feet away from him. Before he could wrench her under the stairwell, he saw Bellatrix Lestrange making a dash toward Hermione. The elder witch had come to from being Stunned, and now she jabbed her wand toward Hermione and said,

"Be silent, Mudblood filth."

Hermione whirled to her right and had her wand halfway up and pointed toward Bellatrix. But Severus could already see the Killing Curse forming on Bellatrix's lips.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

The green light burst forth far more forcefully than any of the other times Severus had cast the spell tonight. The curse hit Bellatrix in the stomach and she froze for a brief moment. Then she slumped to the ground, dead. Hermione turned round toward Severus, looking horrified. He snatched her arm and yanked her under the stairwell, and he hastily Disillusioned them both.

"We have to stop Harry," Hermione whispered breathlessly, but Severus squeezed her arm so tightly he knew she'd be bruised. That was the least of their concerns just now. He swished his wand about the two of them and muttered, " _Protego Totalum._ Do not move, Hermione."

Beside him, she whimpered quietly, and Severus could see why.

"The Boy Who Lived… come to die," Voldemort was saying. He was pacing a few meters from Harry Potter, a taunting smile painted across his grey face.

"There's nothing left, Tom," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. His fist was clenched around something - the Snitch, Severus figured. Voldemort scowled at Harry's words and hissed,

"Do you know, Potter, the night I took your parents' lives, they crumbled so easily in death. They were young and foolish. I wonder if you will look more like your father or your mother when you die. You've got your father's black mess of hair, to be certain… but you've got your mother's eyes. Will they light up like hers did as you fall?"

Harry Potter did not answer Voldemort. He pulled his hand up to his mouth, for some reason, and he murmured something unintelligible.

"Enough pretense," Voldemort sneered. "Bow like a gentleman and duel me one final time, Harry."

Potter just stood there, the Elder Wand down at his side.

"Why isn't he fighting?" Hermione demanded. Severus was silent, but he knew the answer. Harry Potter had resigned himself to death, and so he would die. Voldemort raised his own wand and said snidely,

"Goodbye, Harry. _Avada Kedavra._ "

The green light smacked Harry Potter so roughly that he was hurled backward. His body was limp and motionless as he fell to the ground. Severus watched as something small and golden rolled away from Potter's body across the marble floor. It was the Snitch, he knew. It appeared to be cracked open, and even in death Potter's hand clutched something. The Resurrection Stone.

Severus touched the tip of his wand to Hermione's shoulder and thought, _Muffliato._

It was just in time. She shrieked in agony that only Severus could feel. Her cries were silenced, though, by his spell, and the two of them remained hidden.

"Stay here," Severus hissed into her ear. "Stay here. Do not move."

Hermione, still Disillusioned, shook and heaved silently in Severus' arms. He finally let her go and stepped out from under the stairwell. Voldemort was laughing rather maniacally down at Potter's limp body.

"Potter is dead! The rest of you… lay down your wands. The Dark Lord will show you mercy," he said. Severus looked around to see Molly and Arthur Weasley, along with Ginevra, Fred, George, and Bill. They were clustered together, half of them holding Ginny back as she bent over with sobs. Around the Weasleys' feet was a pile of Death Eater casualties. Some, Severus could tell, were dead.

Minerva McGonagall was on the stairwell above him, her wand pressed to Rodolphus Lestrange's throat. Hagrid loomed up at the top of the stairs, and he appeared to have Yaxley held against the wall. Other members and allies of the Order were scattered about, their duels interrupted by Voldemort's interaction with Harry Potter. Voldemort chuckled quietly and said,

"So much death. For nothing! All of you, lay down your wands and be spared. Your false prophet, your boy savior, is dead. Come to me, all of you, and pledge your loyalty… and you will live."

Severus flicked the Elder Wand at himself and released his own Disillusionment. He strode confidently forward as he appeared in the air, his wand held out toward Voldemort.

"Ah… Severus. I had not yet seen you tonight. I had wondered if you'd decided to come. And have you brought your lovely wife with you?" Voldemort gave a wicked grin toward Severus, but the younger man concentrated on churning his power into a tight ball in his abdomen. He whipped the magic from his hand, through his wand, and out into the most powerful spell he'd ever cast.

" _AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

For the briefest moment, there was a look of horror in Voldemort's scarlet eyes. His face froze in shock, his red eyes went wide, and his wand clattered to the ground. Then the man who had once been Tom Riddle crumpled downward, his robes falling about him awkwardly. Half his spindly legs were bared by the way he lay motionless upon the ground.

Severus swallowed the bile in his throat as he stared at the corpse of Tom Marvolo Riddle. In the end, he was only a man, Severus thought. He was only a pitiful man.

* * *

" _Finite Incantatem!"_ Hermione released her own Disillusionment and muting spells and rushed out from under the stairs. She ran as fast as her feet could take her toward Harry's body. She got there at the same time as Ginny, and the both of them grasped at Harry to try to wake him. She saw Neville Longbottom standing behind Ginny, panting as he set the bloody Sword of Gryffindor upon the ground. A back part of Hermione's mind wondered when Neville had come back to the foyer. Somehow, Hermione ignored the fact that Voldemort's (very mortal) form lay dead and slumped just a few meters away. She ignored the way Severus hovered above her, the way that the room had burst back into action as the elder members of the Order and the Aurors began to quickly take control of the Death Eater prisoners.

"Wake up, Harry!" Ginny cried, though of course Hermione knew that was a fruitless request. Harry was dead, just the way Ron was dead, and Remus Lupin, and so many others. His face was still and quiet. His glasses had shattered when he'd fallen to the floor. Ginny grabbed Harry's hand and kissed it, and something fell from Harry's limp fist to the ground. Hermione spied the gleaming black stone that she knew must be the Resurrection Stone. It hadn't worked. Harry had possessed all the Deathly Hallows, and still he had fallen. She put her face in her hands and dug at her eyes, unable to stop crying enough to finish the fighting. Harry was dead. This was what they'd been expecting, but Hermione found herself utterly unprepared. Just as bad was the smattering of other bodies Hermione had seen. Lavender Brown, Colin Creevey, Sybill Trelawney, and several House-Elves, including Dobby, had been slain. There were more, probably. It was all too much for Hermione to bear. She found that just then, she did not care that Voldemort was dead.

"Ginny…?"

Hermione thought she must have been hearing things, and she kept her hands tightly nestled against her eyes. But then she heard Harry's voice crack again,

"Ginny?"

Hermione's hands flew from her face. She looked to Harry and watched in shock as his emerald eyes fluttered open and his tongue peeked out to lick his bottom lip.

"I'm here! Harry! I'm here!" Ginny laughed through her tears, and she helped Harry sit up. Hermione was so shocked she couldn't move, until Harry looked first to Voldemort's corpse and then to Hermione and said in a croak,

"He's dead. How did he die?"

Hermione's mouth fell open. Finally she managed to say, "Severus killed him."

Harry's gaze rose upward, behind Hermione. She turned round to see Severus looming over them, his black eyes glittering in the dark foyer. Harry had surprised Hermione enough by seemingly coming back from the dead. But then he said something so odd and lovely that Hermione found herself once more dissolved into shuddering tears. Harry looked at Severus, silent for a moment, and then said,

"My mum wanted me to tell you, ' _She's perfect for you, Sev.'_ That's all."

Severus' face twisted a bit, as though he were fighting back emotion. He shifted on his feet and flicked his eyes from Voldemort's corpse back to Harry.

"Thank you, Potter," he said at last. Then he pointed his wand toward Voldemort's body and murmured, " _Evanesco._ "

* * *

"And you, Madam Snape?"

"Oh… it's… it's ' _Madam Granger_ ,' actually," Hermione corrected politely. She shifted where she sat on her chair, and Rita Skeeter giggled rather obnoxiously.

"Of course it is," she said in a bit of a sneer. Hermione could not help but scowl. Rita Skeeter had always been a problem. Just because Severus had killed Voldemort did not mean the _Daily Prophet_ was suddenly an illustrious institution of fine journalism. Rita Skeeter had been seeking out juicy gossip involving Hermione ever since Harry had been in the Triwizard Tournament. She wasn't going to stop now.

"What _about_ me?" Hermione prodded. Hermione and Severus had been forced to do interview after interview in the three months since Voldemort's death. The wizarding public couldn't seem to get enough of them - of the entire crew who had contributed to Voldemort's downfall.

"What do you mean to do, now that You-Know-Who is finally gone?" Rita Skeeter said, as though it were obvious. Hermione pinched her lips and sighed.

"Now that _Voldemort_ is dead," she said pointedly, "I'm going back to Hogwarts with my husband. He's returning to his rightful post as Headmaster. The Carrows, as I'm sure you're aware, are in Azkaban along with the remaining convicted Death Eaters. Headmaster Snape means to return Hogwarts to its former glory, and I shall be right by his side."

"So your marriage to Severus Snape was _not_ a sham set up by the Ministry?" Skeeter asked, pushing her glasses up her nose. Hermione frowned and glanced about the Three Broomsticks. Several people were ogling her, and she lowered her voice as she said,

"No. It was no such thing."

"Hmm. I see." Rita Skeeter's Quick Quotes Quill scratched merrily along upon her parchment, and Hermione hoped that at least every other word she said was making it onto the page. She chewed her bottom lip as Rita asked, "And what will you be teaching at Hogwarts?"

" _Teaching?"_ Hermione repeated, her eyebrows flying up. She shook her head. "No… I haven't finished my NEWTs. We were forced from the school in December, as I'm sure you know, and before that our lessons were less than satisfactory from the Carrows. I'll be redoing my entire seventh year, and then taking my NEWTs in hopes of preparing for a solid career."

"Oh… so you shall be your husband's pupil once more. Charming." Rita Skeeter nodded and curled up her lip, and she giggled quietly. Hermione blinked slowly and looked away.

"Can I get you a butterbeer or anything, Ms. Skeeter?" she asked. "I'm afraid I can't stay too much longer."

"Is Harry Potter going back to school?" Rita Skeeter asked quickly, disregarding Hermione's offer for butterbeer. Hermione scowled and shrugged.

"Have you asked Harry that yourself?"

"I have," Rita nodded. "He wouldn't answer."

"Well, then," Hermione said, "I don't suppose I know. I'm sorry."

The truth was that Hermione knew exactly what Harry's plans were for the autumn. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been tapped as the new Minister for Magic, and Kingsley had invited Harry to begin Auror training without completing his NEWTs. Hermione hadn't been too terribly pleased to hear that Harry wouldn't be coming back to Hogwarts, but she was glad for him that he would get to see his Auror dream through. Ginny, of course, would be finishing her seventh year at school, as would Luna. Many other Muggle-born students who had been excluded the previous year from their educations would be coming back again, as well.

As for the teachers, there were shake-ups there, too. Professor Trelawney had been killed at Malfoy Manor, and so the centaur Firenze would be taking over full-time as Divination professor. Severus had decided to hire Percy Weasley, of all people, as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to replace the Carrows (who were now in Azkaban). Both Minerva McGonagall and Horace Slughorn had threatened retirement in the wake of all the chaos, but Severus had managed to convince them to stay on in his desperation. Hermione would be living in his quarters with him, which was just as well seeing as how all the dormitories would be over-crowded; with a regular incoming class as well as the oddity of 8th year students, this school year would be a challenge.

But now Hermione pretended she knew very little about any of it, for she thoroughly disliked and distrusted Rita Skeeter, and was disinclined to share any confidential information with the _Daily Prophet._ In the months since Voldemort's death, the wizarding world had seemed to awaken from a terrible nightmare, but Hermione was still wary. And she had never trusted Rita Skeeter at all.

"Hmph," Rita sighed, tucking her Quick Quotes Quill away. "Well, thanks for nothing, Madam Granger. Not sure what I'm meant to write in my story. _Headmaster's Wife to return to school in the autumn. Very glad to see world returning to normal. Still not expecting child; no plans for family in the foreseeable future._ Have I got it all right?"

"Don't forget the bit about all the people who were killed in the war and how I'm still mourning them," Hermione noted bitterly. "I think that's far more important. Have a wonderful afternoon, Ms. Skeeter."

"Yes, you, too, Madam Granger." Rita Skeeter sneered and rose from the table. She nodded curtly and clicked her heels tightly on the wooden floorboards as she strode from the Three Broomsticks. Hermione waited a few moments. and then she put several coins down upon the table. She made her way out into the alley outside the pub and Disapparated back to Spinner's End.

* * *

Severus let his quill hover on the parchment for a moment when the door downstairs creaked open. He resumed writing, half-listening to Hermione's footsteps as she moved through the lower level and then climbed the stairs. He continued the letter he was writing, his quill flying on the page.

… _I understand that Albus convinced you to come back rather against your will two years ago, and that you're tired now. But please understand the predicament this puts me in, Horace, seeing as how…_

"Hello, husband."

"One moment." Severus held up one finger to Hermione, who hovered behind him. He heard her let out an indignant little harumph, but he ignored her as he finished his letter to Horace Slughorn. He signed it with a flourish and rolled it up, tying it to the let of the small owl that waited for his reply. He walked over to the window and sent the owl on its way, snapping the hem of his dark tunic as he finally turned back to face Hermione. "How was your meeting with the illustrious Rita Skeeter?" he asked.

"Awful, as expected," she sighed, sinking into the armchair beside Severus' desk. She drummed her fingertips upon the chair and mumbled, "She mocked me a bit about going back to school."

Severus pursed his lips and dragged his fingers over his quill. He and Hermione had had this conversation so many times in the past three months that he'd lost count, but it seemed they were going to do it again.

"Hermione," Severus said gently, "are you quite certain you want to return to school in the autumn? Kingsley is letting Potter be an Auror; you could get any job you wanted at the Ministry. I could come here and see you at the weekends. It's silly for you to -"

"Severus, I've told you over and again that it's very important to me to finish my NEWTs," Hermione said firmly. She sat up straighter in the chair and crossed her arms petulantly over her chest. "If you find it awkward or uncomfortable to be the headmaster of the schools whilst I finish up my education… well, then I suppose that's _your_ problem. I've no issue whatsoever with the situation. I refuse to go through life as a Hogwarts dropout."

Severus rolled his eyes. "You destroyed horcruxes. You were a major contributor to the battle the night Voldemort was killed. You're no dropout, Hermione."

"I'm finishing my NEWTs," she said again, her voice flinty. "Harry can take shortcuts if he wants to. I'm finishing school."

Severus shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He knew there was no convincing her otherwise. He gnawed on his bottom lip and murmured,

"Do you know what letter I just sent off, Hermione?"

"No," she admitted softly. Severus opened his eyes and stared at her for a long moment. Her hair was tied back into a neat, long braid that ran down her back. It was growing long, Severus thought. He huffed out a sharp breath and told her,

"I've just tried one last time to convince Horace Slughorn not to go back into retirement. If he _does_ retire again, and I can't find a suitable potions master for the year, my duties shall include teaching potions lessons in addition to running the school. Now, I am perfectly capable of teaching potions and administering the campus, you understand. But it would be grossly inappropriate for me to issue you a Potions NEWT. Can't you understand what a difficult position you're putting me in, Hermione?"

Her lips blanched white, and for a brief moment she said nothing. At last she said, "M-maybe Professor Slughorn could come back just to do the NEWTs at the end of term? Or… or maybe Professor McGonagall would do it? Or -"

Severus shook his head. "Please, Hermione. _Please_. Go take a job with the Ministry. Live here at Spinner's End. I shall come home at the weekends."

"You don't want me with you." Hermione nodded, her face looking somber. Severus sighed.

"It is not that at all," he promised. "It is rather that I wish for your accomplishments to speak for themselves. And I wish to be respected as the headmaster of the school without having my authority doubted. We are stronger apart than together just now. At least in the public eye."

Hermione looked very hurt at that suggestion. Her eyebrows crumpled and her mouth fell open for a moment. Then she shut her lips and nodded firmly.

"Very well," she said at last. "I shall write to Kingsley and see if he can get me a position."

Severus felt queasy as he contemplated banishing Hermione from her education. But he steeled himself against his guilt, and he cleared his throat roughly. He stared at the window and said, "I shall need to select a Head Boy and Head Girl. Any suggestions?"

Hermione was silent for a long moment, as though she could not believe his gall in asking. But then her voice came quiet and matter-of-fact from the chair.

"Ginny Weasley for Head Girl. She's no-nonsense; won't take any idiocy from the younger students. She'll be a good mentor for them. She's a decent enough student and a good Quidditch player. The younger girls like her. She's popular with the elder girls, too. She's responsible. She'll take the duties on well. Harry won't be at school, so she'll focus entirely on Hogwarts. For Head Boy, I'd choose Justin Finch-Fletchley. He's a Muggle-born Hufflepuff who wasn't allowed to be at school last year. It's an entirely political choice, to be certain, but an important one to show solidarity with the students who are coming back for an eighth year."

Severus knew she was entirely correct with both her suggestions. He sniffed and nodded as he stared out the window at the drizzling rain.

"You'd make a brilliant Head Girl, of course, in a different world," he told her. "Regardless of my personal feelings for you, you'd be my first choice."

"Well, I'm not even allowed to go to school," Hermione said bitterly. She rose from the armchair and smoothed her skirt over her thighs. "I'm going to make dinner. Won't be anything near as nice as what you'll get from the Hogwarts House-Elves, but I'll try to make something edible. Should be ready in about twenty minutes or so."

She turned to go from the room, and suddenly Severus felt his stomach flop and his ears ring. He whirled toward her and grabbed her elbow so harshly that she yelped and glared at him. Severus released her arm and instead put his hands upon her face. He felt his breath come hard through his nostrils as he stared down at her scowling eyes, and he gulped before he closed the distance between them. When his lips touched hers, she did not respond. She felt cold and distant for a long while, until Severus grunted quietly and urged her lips apart with his tongue. Hermione actually took a half step backward, away from him, and Severus felt a desperate twinge of anxiety ripple through him.

"Come to school," he finally mumbled. Her mouth opened for him at last as she gasped quietly, and he pushed her against the wall as he said again, "Come to school with me. We shall figure it all out. Bridges will be crossed when we arrive at them. I can't have you here at night while I'm at Hogwarts. And if you want to take NEWTs, then you shall take them, you delightfully brainy witch."

Hermione squealed a bit as Severus drove his hips hard against her abdomen and coursed his hands around her jumper. The fingers of his right hand trailed beneath her skirt and danced up and down her thighs. Hermione nodded frantically.

"I'll take all my NEWTs except Potions," she promised. "I don't need a Potions NEWT. I'm not going to be a Healer. I wanted to take NEWTs in Charms, Transfiguration, History of Magic, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes. I wasn't even planning on -"

"Oh, I see. So now you aren't even interested in Potions? Is it because I might be teaching it?" Severus teased, and Hermione giggled quietly. She shook her head.

"It's because I'm awful at Potions," she reminded him. "Remember how I nearly killed poor Professor Slughorn by blowing up the expensive cauldron you bought me? Remember how I was rotten compared to Harry when he had your old textbook? I'm a poor hand with a stirring stick, Severus."

"I would hardly say that you're ' _awful at Potions,'_ " he assured her. "Neville Longbottom is ' _awful at Potions._ ' To be certain, it's your weakest subject area. But you're not an awful Potions student, Ms. Granger."

He kissed her neck and let his hands drift beneath her jumper, yanking the hem upward until she squirmed out of the garment and tossed it aside. She let him reach around her back and unclasp her bra, and he pulled it down her arms and let it fall to the floor. He cupped her warm, soft breast in his palm and sighed at the feel of her. She moaned quietly and whispered,

"Well, _Professor Snape_ , regardless of who's teaching Potions this year, I confess I'm far more interested in Runes and Arithmancy and Charms and even History of Magic."

"You're more interested in a class taught by a ghost. About treaties that don't matter anymore and conferences between dead warlocks," Severus teased, his breath hot on Hermione's neck. She tried to laugh, but her breath came out as an indignant little huff. She pulled his hand more firmly onto her chest as she said in a hoarse whisper,

"Are you terribly offended? Now you _do_ want me in your class?"

Severus growled and shut his eyes, unable to take their little game anymore. He glanced up and down Hermione's body, entranced by the sight of her in her black woolen skirt, her calf-height black boots, and nothing at all else. He took a half step back from her and swiped his wrist over his lips, growling from the back of his throat as he steadied himself. He moved to the armchair where Hermione had been sitting earlier. He sank down into it and kept his eyes locked on Hermione. Her hands were pressed to the wall and her bare chest heaved a bit as she panted and watched him.

"Come here, Hermione," Severus snarled, and Hermione's brown eyes flashed as she stalked over to him. She started to kick off her boots, but Severus shook his head firmly and muttered, "Leave them on."

Hermione quirked half her mouth up wickedly and climbed onto his lap, putting a leg on either side of him. Severus reached quickly between them and freed himself from his trousers, wrenching his throbbing length from his buttoned-up prison. Hermione's little hands closed around him and he grunted, shutting his eyes for a moment at the feel of her touch. Then he felt her shoving her knickers aside, felt her wet warmth around him as she sank onto him. It was delicious and altogether too much. He thought he would finish inside of her at once, and his fingers clenched around the arms of the chair. Hermione began to move upon him in slow, deliberate waves, and Severus had to keep his eyes wrenched shut against the beautiful sight of her.

"Look at me, Severus," she whispered, and he shook his head. He could hear the rickety sound of his breath coming through his nostrils, could feel the wondrous squeeze of her around his manhood. He tried to stave off his mounting pleasure, but his bliss built and built until his climax was inevitable. He opened his eyes and saw Hermione's brown eyes wide and searching, her mouth open and gasping. Her hands were pressed to his chest and her hips were moving in gyrating circles on him. Then, suddenly, she stopped moving altogether, and her pink lips silently mouthed his name, and her eyes clenched shut. He felt her cinch him tightly in her womanhood a few times, and Severus' hands gripped her waist in desperation.

"Oh, Hermione," he whispered, feeling his seed shoot into her as if to claim her for his own. His ears rang loud and hot, and his veins exploded with pleasure for a good long while. He felt Hermione collapse against his chest at last, and for a long while they sat panting and sticky. Severus found he had no inclination whatsoever to move. All he did was kiss her hair, and finally he whispered into her ear,

"Yes. You shall be coming back to school this year, Madam Granger. And you shall be taking whatever NEWT exams you'd like to attempt. Far be it from me to stand in your way."

* * *

It seemed altogether silly for Hermione to take the Hogwarts Express from London to the school. But she and Severus had determined that she would try to act as much a student as possible, even though everyone knew full well that she was married to the headmaster. And that she had helped to kill Voldemort.

It was a silly ruse, Hermione thought. But just the same, on the first of September, Hermione made her way to King's Cross Station and went through the wall to Platform 9 ¾ with everyone else. She had no trunk, for Severus had taken her belongings ahead with him a few days earlier from Spinner's End. It had been awkward enough, to say the least, when Hermione had gone shopping with Severus' money in Diagon Alley for new robes and supplies. People knew better than ever who Hermione Granger was, and they made no effort to conceal their stares as she moved from shop to shop. Hermione had difficulty caring too much, though. The war was over. That was what really mattered.

She and Severus had been awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class by Kingsley Shacklebolt in early August. Severus had insisted that the awards be conferred privately, since he wanted no spectacle made of the occasion. But the _Daily Prophet_ had naturally covered it all, and so now the public had yet another reason to consider them 'heroes' in the narrative of the war.

Today, on Platform 9 ¾, Hermione felt like anything but a hero. Parents of the younger students eyed her with a strange mix of awe and suspicion. She was, after all, their children's fellow student, but she was also the wife of the school's headmaster. She was also a well-publicized player in the downfall of Lord Voldemort. It seemed that the adult witches and wizards had no idea what to make of Hermione Granger, so they just stared. Pink-cheeked and humiliated, she climbed onto the train and chose an empty compartment, yanking down the curtain and opening her copy of _The Stars From the Trees: The Astronomical Techniques of the Centaurs._

She flipped to the chapter on nebulae and began reading, ignoring the chatter and chaos in the corridor of the train as students began filing onboard.

' _Muggle astronomers did not truly differentiate between galaxies and nebulae until the early 20th century. But Icelandic centaur astronomer Buskanum Thokan discovered the density of nebulae in the mid-13th century. He found that an Earth-sized area of a nebula cloud would weigh only a few kilograms. His conclusion? While a nebula consists of star-making gases, the massive clouds are just wisps in space. How this factors into centaur astronomy is a complex relationship of area versus density in the interplay of destiny, and -'_

"Hi, there, Hermione."

She glanced up from her book to see Ginny Weasley in the threshold of the compartment. Hermione shut her book and quirked up a bit of a smile, especially when she saw Luna Lovegood behind Ginny. The two girls stepped into the compartment and sat on the bench opposite Hermione, shutting the door behind them. Suddenly Hermione was transported back to the winter, when everything had been anxious and uncertain in Grimmauld Place and at Shell Cottage. Ginny and Luna had been so instrumental in helping defeat Voldemort. It was odd now, months later, to sit with them in Hogwarts uniforms on the train. Hermione laughed gently and said,

"This is bizarre, isn't it?"

Ginny nodded. She fingered the Head Girl badge on the lapel of her robe and asked, "Did you have anything to do with this?"

Hermione shrugged. "I threw your name in the ring, of course, but Severus wouldn't have chosen you as Head Girl if he didn't think you were the best one for the job, Ginny."

"Oh, I think you'll do marvelously," Luna reassured Ginny, patting her shoulder. "Everyone will look up to you. I already do! Hermione, can I interest you in a copy of the _Quibbler?_ My father and I spent the summer on a fascinating search for Argentine Salt Spiders."

She held out a copy of her father's newspaper, and Hermione took it as she furrowed her brows. "Argentine Salt Spiders?" she repeated, for she'd never heard of them.

"Yes; they're reported to be three meters high, and they live in the salt pans of Argentina. We searched for over a month, but we ran out of time and had to come back. We did see tracks, though! We're very convinced of their existence! And we had a wonderful time in South America!"

Hermione pinched her lips, taking in the black-and-white cover photo of Xenophilius and Luna Lovegood smiling and waving with an empty expanse of salt behind them. She smiled at Luna and nodded. "I'm glad you and your father had a good summer," she said confidently, tucking the _Quibbler_ into her tote bag.

The ride to Hogwarts felt so ordinary that Hermione nearly forgot what had happened over the last year and a half. She was a different person now, but she could remember riding this train with Harry and Ron, looking at Chocolate Frog cards and laughing. She could still hear Ron's voice, muffled by too many chocolates in his mouth. She could still see Harry jabbing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. And the sway of the train on the tracks felt so familiar and comforting that the boys' presence was almost real.

But then Hermione glanced around, and they were gone. Luna and Ginny were there, and the girls were Hermione's friends. It wasn't the same, though. Ron was dead, and Harry was in London for Auror training. The world was a different place now. Hermione was married, and her husband had killed many people to eliminate the greatest Dark wizard of all time. Her husband was the headmaster of the school because he'd killed Dumbledore.

The world was strange and confusing, and every time something felt familiar, ten things felt foreign. Hermione shut her eyes and leaned her head upon the cold glass window, drifting off to sleep until she felt a hand upon her shoulder.

"We've arrived at the station," said Luna's voice gently, and Hermione snapped her eyes open. She looked out the window and saw Hagrid on the platform, holding up a lantern. And she knew that she was home.


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione dashed quickly down the Serpentine Corridor on the third floor, her feet pattering on the stones. She was running late for her second Thursday lesson, which happened to be Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was only the second Defense lesson of the term, and already Hermione was late. It wasn't as though Hermione had _intended_ on being late to Percy Weasley's class. She'd gotten caught up in a discussion with Professor Vector in the Advanced Arithmancy classroom and had lost track of time. Professor Vector had offered a note, but Hermione had declined and had decided to run. It had seemed unwise to go about with notes and excuses, seeing as how she was Severus' wife. She would simply have to be thirty seconds late and apologize profusely.

Only, she wasn't thirty seconds late, because she wasn't running fast enough. As she passed a large grandfather clock in the Serpentine Corridor, she saw that she was _six minutes_ late. Hermione let out a low groan of worry and paused for ten seconds outside of classroom 3C, trying desperately to catch her breath. She recognized that it was useless and instead smoothed her hair a bit and cleared her throat. She flung the door open and dashed quickly inside, and every single face turned round to face her with looks of great judgment.

Hermione lowered her face and made her way silently to a desk. She had a terrible flashback of when, during her sixth year, she'd been late for Severus' lesson in this classroom. As she laid out her NEWT-level textbook, her quill and parchments, and her wand upon her desk, her cheeks burned with humiliation. The classroom had gone silent, and Percy Weasley stood up at the chalkboard with a bit of chalk clutched in his hand.

"Madam Granger," he tutted sharply, and Hermione looked up at him. Two lessons in, and even the seventh-year students had realized to be deferential to Percy Weasley. He'd been a Prefect during all their first years, and even then he'd perpetually had a stick up his bum. Now he had actual, tangible authority over them, and the power to grant them NEWTs or not. So the other students had arrived on time… wisely. Hermione felt her cheeks burn hotter than ever as Percy quirked a red eyebrow up at her, and she gulped.

"I'm v-very sorry, Professor Weasley," she stammered, the title feeling awkward in her mouth since she had so long called him 'Percy.' She knew he was no more accustomed to calling her 'Madam Granger.' This was all very strange, she thought. She shut her eyes for a moment and tried to recalibrate herself. "I'm afraid I was caught up in discussion with Professor Vector about a project for -"

"Right. Fifteen points from Gryffindor, and do not let it happen again." Percy Weasley frowned and turned back to the chalkboard. Hermione's mouth fell open in angry shock, and she felt the burning glare of Dean Thomas, a Gryffindor who had returned to Hogwarts after missing the previous year. Hermione scowled and shrugged helplessly, looking back up to the board to see Percy scratching out,

 _To what degree are portraits sentient? How does this play into Dark Magic?_ He turned round and twirled his chalk in his fingers and began to pace as he said tightly,

"The first enchanted portraits were created in the eleventh century. It is known that portraits are created by specialized magical artists who mimic the subject's demeanor and use favorite phrases, behaviors, and the like in the creation of the portrait. The portraits are limited in what they can say and do. The paintings know little, if anything, of their subjects' lives, with one notable group exception…"

"The Hogwarts headmasters," Hermione blurted. She quickly clapped her hand over her mouth, feeling enraged with herself for her lack of control. _Stupid, childish wench_ , she scolded herself. Percy Weasley glared at her and said sharply,

"Madam Granger, if you wish to speak, do raise your hand."

"Of course. I apologize, Professor Weasley." Hermione nodded, and Ginny Weasley turned over her shoulder as if to say, ' _If I can control myself around Percy, you should be able to.'_

"The notable group of exceptions are the Hogwarts headmasters' portraits," Percy Weasley continued, as though he had never been interrupted. He kept pacing, and he said, "Unlike ordinary portraits, these are directly taught how to speak and act like their subjects. However, they still don't know much about their subjects' lives, and -"

"That's isn't true, Professor Weasley," Hermione burst out. She shut her eyes at once and swore under her breath. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. She opened her eyes and said gently, "It's just… Professor Dumbledore's portrait knows a great bit about his life, sir."

There were a few scattered titterings about the room then, as the seventh-year students reacted to the showdown between the Headmaster's Wife and the newly-minted professor who had been a hated prefect in his day. Percy Weasley's cheeks had gone beet red with anger and humiliation, and he gripped the chalk so tightly in his right hand that Hermione was sure it would snap. Hermione chewed her bottom lip and waited for him to take more points from Gryffindor. But then he said quietly,

"Detention, Madam Granger. The next three Saturdays in a row. And fifteen more points from Gryffindor. I understand you've returned to school this year to obtain your NEWTs. If you desire one in Defense Against the Dark Arts, I advise you learn to control yourself."

The classroom was silent and the air heavy then. Hermione shook where she sat, and her eyes burned. But she nodded numbly and whispered, "All right, then."

* * *

As it turned out, Severus had been unable to convince Horace Slughorn to stay at school for another term. Ultimately, Severus could scarcely blame the man. Horace had taught at Hogwarts for nearly sixty years before retiring. He'd only been pulled back into the fray by Dumbledore as a ploy to learn more about Voldemort's horcruxes. After the drama of Dumbledore's death, the Carrows' flawed administration, and Voldemort's downfall, it seemed Slughorn had had enough. He wanted to go to his home for a few quiet years, he asserted. Severus had discussed the teaching position with a few viable candidates, but no one was available or willing on such short notice.

So here he was, moving about in the Potions classroom in the dungeons. He would be dividing his time between Headmaster's duties and teaching Potions. Minerva McGonagall would help a great deal as Deputy Headmistress, of course, and that was just as well. The students liked her much better, anyway.

He had first-year Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff coming in a half hour. Today would be the first Potions lesson in the students' lifetimes. Severus traditionally loathed first-years at the start of term. They melted metalware, exploded ingredients, and cried like babies when things didn't go as planned. He always kept a liberal supply of Essence of Dittany and a stack of handkerchiefs on his desk. And he knew to wear a domineering sneer upon his face to establish the tone.

He glided over to the supply jars and pulled the lid off the glass container of porcupine quills. He used tongs and counted out forty quills onto a tray, which he carried back to his desk. He would be meting out ingredients for the first-years' premiere foray into brewing. They could scarcely be trusted with valuable ingredients. Severus made his way back to the ingredients and began to pull out enough pickled Shrake spines for the class. Behind him, he heard the classroom door fly open, and he rolled his eyes as he said sharply,

"The lesson does not begin for nearly a half hour. You may return then."

" _Detentions_ , Severus. Three detentions! The nerve of him!"

Severus furrowed his brow and turned round to see Hermione, red-faced and flustered, as she slammed the classroom door shut behind her. He sighed and finished pulling Shrake spines out of the jar. He calculated what time it was, and where Hermione had just been, and he murmured,

"Percy Weasley gave you detentions? What on Earth did you do?"

She huffed and stomped across the stone floor, pulling up next to him at the supply jars and opening the bag of snake fangs. She scooped out a heap onto a wooden tray and carried it over to Severus' desk. He realized she'd taken inventory of the ingredients he was assembling, and she probably knew that all first-year his Potions classes began with the Cure for Boils. He felt a strange stirring for her until he remembered she was here to complain about detentions, and he cleared his throat quietly. She whirled round at his desk and crossed her arms over her chest. She pouted as she leaned back upon his desk, and her eyes glistened with tears.

"I was late to the lesson. Only, I was late because I discussing a project with Professor Vector, and I didn't want to take an excuse note from her because I didn't want anything to look like favoritism. Well, so much for that. He took fifteen points away from Gryffindor for it."

She scuffed her foot upon the stone floor, and Severus tried not to look amused. He stepped a bit closer and licked his lips. "And then he gave you three detentions?"

"No," Hermione spat bitterly. "The detentions came because I _corrected_ him. He was wrong, Severus. He was lecturing about the sentience of portraits, and he gave incorrect information. I corrected him, and -"

"Did you raise your hand? Or wait until the lesson was over and discuss it with him in private?" Severus cocked an eyebrow at Hermione, and her cheeks darkened. She shook her head and said in a defensive tone,

"No. I admit I blurted it out, but he was giving incorrect information to the entire class!"

Severus sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. "He's a brand-new teacher. You undermined his authority. Worse still, you're my wife. He was right to give you detentions if you interrupted him to correct him."

Hermione looked infuriated. Her bottom lip trembled and she shook her head. "How dare you," she seethed, and Severus actually gave a dark chuckle. That only made things worse; her chestnut eyes went wide with rage, and her arms tightened across her chest. Severus shifted on his feet and tried to keep his face serious.

"Hermione, you must understand that for a teacher - especially a _new_ teacher - to be so blatantly disrespected by a student is unacceptable. I would give any student detentions for talking out of turn in such a way. Certainly I would have done so early in my teaching career. And you have spoken out in my classes more than once, young lady. It _is_ annoying."

He reached for her tie then, for it was crooked and had gone loose from the way her arms were crossed and yanking at her uniform. He started to straighten the maroon-and-gold tie, but that only seemed to make her more angry than ever. She batted his hand away roughly and growled,

"So I'm meant to serve three detentions with Percy Weasley?"

"With _Professor Weasley_ , yes." Severus was quite grave in his tone now. He took her wrist in his hand, the one that had swatted him away, and he held her tightly. He met her glittering eyes and hissed, "Are you a student at this school or aren't you, Madam Granger? You must decide exactly what your role is here. You said it yourself; there can be no favoritism. You disrespected a teacher. Now you'll serve detentions. Do you understand?"

"Oh, yes. I understand, _Headmaster_. Please, don't let me keep you from your preparations for your first-years. I'm very sorry, sir." Hermione wrenched her wrist from Severus' hand and wriggled her way out from his desk.

* * *

"So, Hermione… what about your parents?" Ginny Weasley sipped at her warm cup of cider and chewed upon a bit of shortbread. Hermione sighed and glanced about the Gryffindor Common Room. It was late enough that most everyone had gone to bed. She and Ginny had worked on homework together, and then had sat talking for the past two hours. It was nearly midnight. The conversation had long since drifted away from school to more personal matters. Hermione gulped.

"Severus says he'll try to find them for me," Hermione said, licking her bottom lip. "But I don't know whether they'll ever _truly_ know me again. Authentically restoring memories is no easy task. It can go terribly wrong. If they're happy in their new lives, it may well be more merciful to leave them that way. It would be selfish of me to… well, the last thing I want is for them to wind up like Gilderoy Lockhart, you understand."

She sipped her cider and fought off the burn in her eyes. Ginny seemed to understand she shouldn't press the matter any further, and she nodded as she shut her Charms textbook. She set down her shortbread and said,

"I got an owl from Harry today. He says he'll be starting Stealth and Tracking straight away. He's looking forward to it. They have him staying in his own flat in London and everything."

Hermione gave Ginny a little smile. "I'll bet you miss him," she acknowledged, and Ginny nodded.

"I do, and I will," she said, dragging her thumb around the rim of her mug. "He's going to come to Hogsmeade the first weekend that we go. So we'll meet up there for half a day or so. And I shall see him at Christmas. But… it isn't the same as all the adventures we had last year, is it?"

"No. I don't suppose anything shall ever be the same as all the adventures we had last year," Hermione acknowledged. They sat in silence for a moment then, for Demelza Robins and Popilia Macduff were heading up to the Gryffindor Girls' Dormitory. Ginny neglected to scold the girls for breaking curfew, for they were only ten minutes past. Hermione thought that was wise of Ginny; it was much smarter of her to avoid building a reputation as an unlikable Head Girl.

"Percy's a right git for giving you detentions," Ginny said, once the other girls had gone. Hermione felt her stomach clench at the thought of the disciplinary incident. She hadn't thought too much about it all since earlier that day, when she'd argued with Severus about it. Indeed, that was why she was still in the Gryffindor Common Room - she was avoiding Severus. Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed at Ginny.

"Please, let's not discuss it. Anyway, it's late. I should get downstairs, or I'm liable to be given more detentions from my own husband. Oh, _stop_ it, Ginny. It isn't funny!"

Ginny was still giggling under her breath as Hermione made her way out of the portrait hole. The walk down to the dungeons felt interminable. Hermione pondered the fact that she would be turning nineteen years old in a few weeks, and what that meant. She felt at once like a child and an old woman. She was caught between being subjected to discipline and living the lifestyle of a full-blown adult. She had witnessed and done more traumatic things than most other did in a lifetime, and her husband was very nearly middle-aged. But on Saturday she would be serving the first of three detentions for talking out of turn in lessons. It was all very incongruous, and Hermione was not sure what exactly to make of it.

She stormed through Severus' office in the dungeons and cast aside the wards on their private chambers. She was rather surprised, given the hour, to hear the shower running in the bathroom to her left when she walked into the chambers. She sighed and began yanking off her school uniform, hanging it up one piece at a time in her wardrobe and casting cleansing spells as she went. Her tie and stockings and belt went on one hanger; her white shirt and pleated skirt went beside them. Her black-and-maroon Gryffindor robe got its own heavy hanger, and then she yanked the ties from her hair and shook it loose. She stood before the wardrobe in her bra and knickers, reaching in a basket for some pyjamas, when she heard Severus' smooth voice beside her.

"I had wondered if you were going to have a slumber party in Gryffindor Tower, or whether you were going to come back down here. I must say I'm delighted to see you decided on the latter."

Hermione jumped, startled by the way he'd snuck up on her. She scowled up at him and tried to ignore how attractive he was, his black hair hanging in wet tendrils in his face and his bare chest gleaming. She frowned and said,

"It's late. I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

Severus nodded and pulled the towel from his waist, casually drying his hair as he strode toward his own wardrobe. Hermione tried not to ogle his dangling manhood and the way his backside moved when he walked. She averted her eyes while he pulled on grey flannel trousers, and she ignored the rush of moisture between her own legs. She cleared her throat roughly and yanked a plain nightgown over her head.

Once they were settled into their warm bed, Severus lay upon his back and said quietly, "Bathsheda Babbling is exceptionally pleased that you and Miss Lovegood have elected to pursue NEWTs in Ancient Runes. She hasn't taught the course at that level in four years, you know."

"Yes, not since Percy Weasley, if I'm not mistaken," Hermione scowled. She rolled over, away from Severus, and sniffed tightly. He groaned and said,

"You're cross with me. It's obvious."

"Yes, I am," Hermione nodded, still not looking at him. She felt his hand upon her shoulder, and she flinched at his touch. He pulled his fingers away from her and said in a much sharper tone,

"You're being childish about all this."

Hermione felt a warm flash of anger, and she rolled over and glared at Severus through the darkness. "Childish?" she repeated, sitting up in the bed and pounding her fists on the mattress. "Perhaps if you don't want your teachers corrected in lessons, you ought to hire instructors who know the material!"

Severus pinched his lips and sat up, as well. His black eyes glinted in the dim light, and he reached out and clutched at Hermione's jaw. She tried to twist away from him, but he held her so tightly she worried she would have a bruise. He spoke through clenched teeth as he said,

"What exactly would you have me do?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Couldn't you just explain -"

"Explain what, exactly? ' _Oh, Percy, please do excuse my little wife. Try not to take her outbursts personally. She hasn't been able to keep her mouth shut since she was eleven years old._ '"

Hermione's hand flew up on instinct to slap Severus' cheek, for she was so filled with anger and offense at how he was handling all this that she'd utterly lost control of herself. He caught her wrist halfway to his face and squeezed so hard that Hermione yelped. Severus lowered Hermione's wrist between them and mashed it against his groin, and Hermione suddenly felt sick. She usually wanted him, but right now she was filled with animosity. So much displeasure was swirling back and forth through their bond that Hermione could no longer tell which anger was hers and which was Severus'. When he crushed her hand against his pyjama trousers, there was barely any erection whatsoever. But his breath came hard and fast through his nostrils, and his eyes gleamed.

"You can take your punishment with Percy Weasley," Severus whispered, "or you can take it with me."

"What?" Hermione croaked. She started to pull her hand away from him, but he yanked it back. She felt the first stirrings of hardness beneath the flannel, and she felt an odd mix of horror, arousal, and excitement. She throbbed between her legs and felt confused in her mind, and she panted a bit as she said, "What do you mean?"

Severus cocked an eyebrow and twitched beneath Hermione's palm. "Do you want to serve detentions with Percy Weasley?" he asked in a bored voice.

"No," Hermione admitted, her voice a scratching whisper. Severus quirked up a little smirk.

"Well," he said, "I _am_ the Headmaster. I am perfectly capable of handling discipline myself. We can get your punishment over and done with tonight."

Hermione wanted to shriek at him that he should simply absolve her of any responsibility whatsoever. But she knew that they would never agree about whether she was right or wrong to interrupt Percy Weasley in lessons. And all of a sudden, it sounded rather alluring to be 'punished' by Severus. It seemed as though just maybe that would be a good resolution to all of this. So Hermione nodded once and murmured,

"All right, then."

Severus grunted quietly, and she felt him go even harder beneath her hand. His black eyes glinted again, and he whispered, "Take off your nightgown. _Now_."

She shivered at the sound of his voice, and she pulled her hand from him to yank off her clothes. She tossed the nightgown aside and started to pull her knickers down, but Severus stopped her.

"Leave those on," he commanded. Hermione knelt before him on the bed and felt another flush of moisture between her legs. Severus knifed his hand between Hermione's thighs and dragged his fingertips along the material of her knickers. Hermione bucked her hips against his fingers and reached out for his bare shoulders, trying to stay quiet as he teased the knickers.

"Feel how wet you are for me," he said in a hiss. "It's almost as though you _want_ to be punished, Hermione."

She shook her head firmly, struggling to remember how angry she'd been with him all day. Severus' left hand drifted around her torso, squeezing her breast and toying with her nipple. His mouth latched on there, and he nibbled and bit her until it genuinely hurt. Hermione yelped in pain and buried her fingers in his still-damp hair in an attempt to wrench his face from her chest. Severus lathed his tongue over her tortured nipple and continued to pull his fingers back and forth around the sopping material of her knickers.

"Lie down across my lap," he commanded her quietly. "If you won't have detentions, then you will apologize properly."

Hermione felt her cheeks flush hot with anxious embarrassment. She balked for a moment at Severus' suggestion, until he gestured matter-of-factly to his lap. She felt a strange quiver of excitement as she arranged herself upon him. The night had turned from an argument into a thrilling intimate session between them rather quickly. But as soon as Hermione was settled across Severus' thighs, she realized that Severus was serious about punishing her.

 _Thwack!_

"Agh!" she cried, for his hand had struck her backside so firmly that her eyes welled at once with tears. His palm soothed her skin now, but it barely helped the intense stinging. She tried to look over her shoulder, to glare at him, but he said firmly,

"Eyes ahead, Madam Granger."

 _Thwack!_ _Thwack! Thwack!_

He struck her thrice more, his swings growing more intense each time. By the third spank, he was grunting softly and she could feel his erection digging into her belly. Hermione felt tears streaming down her cheeks, for the pain on her backside was so intense that she could not stem the crying. Her fists balled around the duvet, and she choked out,

"Enough, Severus."

But there was a twinge of pleasure there, too, whether she wanted to admit it or not. As the stinging pain dissipated, it gave way to a dull sense of want throughout her body. She was soaking wet between her thighs, she knew, and Severus took the opportunity to remind her of this. His fingers shoved her knickers aside and fiddled with her clit and folds, yanking a loud cry from Hermione as she dangled over his thigh.

"You like this, don't you?" he taunted her smoothly. Severus pushed two fingers, then three, into Hermione's quim and hooked them against her. She moaned loudly and grasped the duvet more tightly, and Severus panted above her. "This is not punishment for you, Hermione. You enjoy it."

Hermione could feel that she was moments from finishing around his fingers. If he kept touching her like this, she would be clenching around him in moments. Severus seemed to know this, too. He pulled his hand from her body and wiped his fingers on the blankets, saying in a firm voice,

"Lie still for a moment and tell me how you mean to respect your teachers."

Hermione growled in frustration. She tried to pull herself up off of Severus' lap, but he pushed hard against the small of her back and said,

"Tell me how you will behave in class, Madam Granger."

Hermione squirmed, trying to rub her clit against Severus' thigh. She could hardly see straight, for she was so intensely aroused. She swallowed and managed to croak out,

"I will raise my hand when I wish to speak. And… and if I'm not called upon, I shall simply hold my tongue."

"Mmm… good girl," Severus murmured. He yanked at the hem of Hermione's knickers and pulled them down over her thighs. He tossed the knickers aside and returned his fingers to Hermione's entrance, and she could not help but cry out at the feel of his touch.

"Come for me," he ordered her. "Come for me... right now."

She couldn't have disobeyed even if she'd wanted to. A mere moment later, she was clenching erratically around his sodden fingers as he groaned loudly above her. Her ears rang hot and blood rushed to her head as it dangled over Severus' thigh. Hermione was chanting his name, she knew distantly, but she was so lost in her climax that she was only vaguely aware of what was going on. She suddenly felt herself being arranged by Severus' strong grip, being put on her hands and knees. Then she felt him drive himself fully into her body in one mighty thrust, and she cried out desperately. She collapsed onto her elbows and moaned his name into the pillow beneath her.

 _Thwack!_

He smacked her backside again, harder than ever, and Hermione's squeal in response was muffled by the pillow. Severus began to move within her, slowly at first and then faster as he grasped her hips tightly in his hands.

"Never… _ever_ … put me between my wife and my staff again," he grunted. He gathered up all of Hermione's hair in his left hand and pulled her head back just enough so that her face was pulled off the pillow. He groaned quietly and said, "Do you understand me?"

"Yes. Yes. I understand. I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, feeling so aroused by the feel of his ministrations that she thought she might finish again. Suddenly Severus was hurtling himself into her, his hips bashing her buttocks over and over. Hermione grew dizzy and weak as she cried out his name, feeling the delicious rub of his length on her entrance as he pistoned himself roughly into her. He released her hair and squeezed her waist tightly, burrowing himself deeply inside of her and bellowing out like a beast. His hips stilled at last and Hermione felt his cock twitching within her as he came.

She panted and buried her face into the pillow, sobbing quietly as she tried to recover from her exhaustion. She was sore where he'd been grasping her hips so tightly. His seed oozed out of her body when he pulled away from her, and her backside still stung from how hard he'd struck her skin. Her scalp burned from where he'd pulled her hair. And there was the underlying sense of satisfaction, for he'd made her feel very _good_ , too. Hermione's breath shook against the pillow as she whispered his name a few times, and she nearly fell asleep.

She felt Severus' fingers rubbing up and down her back carefully, then. He stroked her skin with a feather-light touch that made her shiver, and he murmured,

"Just be more careful, please… I dislike very much being made to treat you like a student, Hermione. You've chosen to come back for your NEWTs, and I respect that with all my heart. But, _please_ … see what a predicament that is for me, won't you?"

She nodded silently against the pillow, and she felt his lips touch the back of her neck a few times. Then she felt the warmth of his breath against her skin as he whispered in her ear,

"Goodnight, little wife."

* * *

Severus walked briskly through the third floor corridor, relishing the way the sea of students parted reverently before him. Dennis Creevey, the Gryffindor whose elder brother Colin had been killed at Malfoy Manor, shrank down a bit and scurried off with a pack of several other lions. Several second-year Ravenclaws stopped their murmuring conversations and gave him a polite, "Good afternoon, Headmaster." Severus ignored them all. His black robes billowed out behind him as he strode through the cloisters that overlooked the courtyard below.

"Professor Snape?"

He only turned round and acknowledged the voice because he could tell at once that it belonged to Percy Weasley. When Severus turned, he saw the man's curly ginger hair, prematurely balding with specks of grey throughout, blowing in the cloister breeze. Percy Weasley looked very nervous as he approached, and Severus knew precisely why that was. He waited for the gaggles of students to pass them by, and he said quietly to Percy,

"If you're here about Madam Granger's detentions, you needn't worry."

Percy looked very relieved, and he nodded as his thin throat bobbed. "I hope you understand, Headmaster, that I could not let the disrespect go unacknowledged. Not in my first week of teaching. Even though I've known Hermione for years… perhaps _especially_ because of that… and because of -"

"No, of course you couldn't let her get away with speaking to you like that," Severus sniffed. "Though, do ensure you know the material well enough in the future that she does not feel compelled to correct you. She is rather unpracticed at self-control when it comes to correcting misinformation."

Percy's cheeks colored, and he nodded firmly as he mumbled a swift apology. Severus glanced down into the courtyard below as he said,

"No need for the detentions, in any case. I assure you, Madam Granger has been more than adequately punished. The disrespect in your class will not happen again."

He turned on his heel and stormed off, leaving Percy Weasley standing in open-mouthed shock in the corridor.

* * *

" _Simplexiterum!"_ Hermione swirled her wand in front of the glass goblet before her and focused hard. The tip of her wand glowed pale violet, and the glass gave way at once. It dissolved into a million grains of sand, falling into a small puddle on the table.

"Oh, well done, Hermione!" Luna said in a proud tone. She patted Hermione's shoulder and pointed her own wand at the glass goblet before her. " _Simplexiterum!"_

Luna's goblet, too, dissolved into sand on command, and Luna smiled proudly. The two girls were practicing Transfiguration in an empty classroom. It was drizzling a chilly rain outside, but Ginny had insisted on holding Gryffindor Quidditch anyway. Luna and Hermione had cracked a window in the empty classroom to let in a bit of air, and the sound of the pattering rain outside was soothing. Luna looked at the list of spells they were meant to be practicing.

"Hmm," she droned absently. "I'm not so certain about this one. I confess I've never had much luck with it. Would you care to go first?"

Hermione looked at the list of Human Transfiguration spells and groaned. She had never been terribly skilled with Human Transfiguration; it had always been her weakest area of spellwork in the subject. She and Severus had been forced into a great deal of changing up their features in the past year or so, so Hermione was better at the skills than she used to be. But her confidence was still slagging. She pinched her lips and looked straight at Luna.

" _Capillos Rubra… Obesaque! Dilatanda Nasum. Interdentes…_ "

One by one, the Transfiguration spells altered Luna's features until she had waist-length auburn hair, a face that was round and relatively plump, a wider nose, and teeth with spaces between them. It was not a very flattering look, and Hermione grimaced.

"Have you got a mirror?" Luna asked serenely, and Hermione hestitated.

"Erm… well, the spells worked, but… why don't you just let me undo them?" she said hurriedly. Luna laughed gently and shook her head. She swirled her wand about her left hand and Conjured a hand-held mirror, and she giggled when she saw her reflection.

"Oh, I think I'll stay this way for dinner," she mused, touching her fattened cheek. "It's always refreshing to try a new look for a change, don't you agree?"

Hermione frowned. "If you say so," she shrugged. Then, looking back at the list, she frowned. "Go ahead and choose one of the other Human Transfiguration sets to use on me, I suppose. I probably won't keep it for dinner, though, so promise me you won't have your feelings hurt!"

"Oh, no. I won't take offense," Luna promised. She studied the list and, looking indecisive, shut her eyes and jabbed the tip of her wand randomly at the name of a spell. Hermione was very anxious at that approach, and nearly protested aloud. But before she could get a word in, Luna pointed her wand at Hermione and exclaimed, " _Iussosannis!"_

Hermione felt her whole body quivering, felt her face contorting and squeezing oddly, and she suddenly knew she'd shrunk a few centimeters. Hermione panicked abruptly, her hands shaking as she reached for the mirror Luna had Conjured. She gasped when she looked at her reflection. It was not so drastic as what she'd done to Luna, but in many ways it was worse. Luna's spell had carried an anti-ageing effect, and Hermione looked to be perhaps twelve years old. She gasped in horror at her girlish face, her youthful features. She glanced down to see that her breasts had barely formed, that her thin figure was boyish and twiggy. She gulped heavily and reached for her wand.

" _Finite Incantatem!"_ she exclaimed. Nothing happened.

"Oh. I think… I think that only works for Charms and such," Luna informed Hermione, sounding a bit worried in an uncharacteristic fashion. Hermione flashed Luna a glare, and Luna's pale eyes blinked. "I think we need an Untransfiguration spell. Like -"

"Oh, _I'll_ do it, Luna. Thank you." Hermione held her hand up forcefully. She did not mean to be rude, but it had been Luna's magic that had turned her into a gormless little girl. She jabbed her wand at herself and said firmly, " _Reparifarge._ "

Nothing happened. Hermione began to hyperventilate a bit as she stared at herself in the Conjured mirror. She rattled off all the counter-curses and Untransfiguration spells she knew. Nothing was working. Finally she looked up to see that Luna had silently returned her own appearance to normal and was pacing, apparently thinking hard.

"What on Earth have you done to me, Luna?" Hermione shrieked, losing her temper a bit. "I can't let Severus see me like this!"

"Well, I was trying to wipe the freckles from your nose. But, to be fair, Hermione, Professor Snape has seen you like this before." Luna gave Hermione a rather deliberate look. Hermione growled in anger and stomped her foot.

"He is my _husband_ , Luna! He's not a pervert! He did not marry a child! I can't go to dinner looking twelve years old! Everyone would just _love_ that, wouldn't they? Wouldn't everyone just _love_ to have a good laugh at how the Headmaster's young wife looks even younger? Oh, this is just an unmitigated disaster. I can't believe…"

"I'm very, _very_ sorry, Hermione." Luna's cheeks colored pink, and Hermione sighed as she tried to rein in her anger. Finally she shook her head and told Luna,

"Go up to the Headmaster's office. I think Severus is there. Bring him here. He'll know what to do. The password for the gargoyle is _Le sang est du sang_. If he gives you trouble about that, tell him it's an emergency and I told you the password. _Le sang est du sang._ "

"Right." Luna nodded firmly once. "I'll bring him back straight away."

* * *

"Did she try _Reparifarge?_ " Severus demanded as Luna Lovegood led him quickly through the corridors. He glared down at the blonde Ravenclaw, who looked very embarrassed about having botched her Human Transfiguration practice.

"She did, sir," Luna affirmed as they rounded the corner on the fourth floor. "It didn't work, I'm afraid."

Severus huffed and shook his head. He wracked his brain and tried to think of other Untransfiguration spells. He sincerely hoped this was not a matter that was going to require research in the library. The last thing he wanted was for Hermione to look twelve years old for any substantial amount of time.

"For what it's worth, sir, before the accident, Hermione did an excellent job turning my hair red and putting spaces in my teeth. She's much better at feature Transfiguration than I am," Luna said. "And we both managed Glass to Sand."

Severus made a little noise of indignation. He couldn't care less whether the girls had changed glass back into sand. His wife had become a child and the spell couldn't be undone. Right now, that was all that mattered. Finally, Luna and Severus came to a door in the fourth floor corridor, and Luna started to open it. Severus cleared his throat and said firmly,

"Allow me to try to fix the situation here, Miss Lovegood. You go, if you please, to Professor McGonagall's office. Ask her whether she knows a fix for this specific situation. We'll be here if we still need help."

"All right, then, Headmaster." Luna Lovegood nodded and started to walk away. She turned over her shoulder, a look of regret on her pale face. "Will you please tell Hermione again that I'm very sorry? It's funny in a way, isn't it? A forty-year-old witch would love to look six or seven years younger… but not one Hermione's age. Time is a strange thing. I'll go ask for help from Professor McGonagall now."

For some reason, Severus was left rather shaken by Luna's observation. He tried to shed his unease, and he cleared his throat as he opened the door to the abandoned classroom. Inside was a short witch, practically drowning in her school robes. She was facing away from the door, and her bushy hair flew about her skull in a brown halo. Severus felt his heart racing in his chest. He did not want her to turn around. He knew what she'd looked like then - buck-toothed and wide-eyed and apple-cheeked. She had been a child, and there was nothing wrong with that at the time. Now she was his wife, and he had no desire to stand in the same room with her like that.

" _Reparifarge… Finite Incantatem… Convertero!_ Fucking hell…"

"Language, Miss Granger."

She whirled around her shoulder, her chestnut eyes glistening with frustrated tears. Severus felt his smirk disappear when he saw her face. She looked the way she had done in her second or perhaps her third year. He shut his mouth and looked away from her, and he mumbled,

"Well, this is rather different than when I took the _Minnuere Annis_ potion and made myself eighteen. At least then there was nothing disgusting about… well, in any case, we need to fix this immediately."

"What do you suppose I've been trying to do for the past twenty minutes?" Hermione demanded. Severus winced, for her voice was higher and tighter. More childlike. He held up his hand to silence her, and he shut his eyes. He thought hard through the list of Untransfiguration spells he knew, along with all the counter-curses. Finally he shook his head and thought aloud.

"An ageing potion is temporary. It won't undo the Transfiguration. In fact, there is no potion that will undo it. Perhaps rather than trying to _undo_ the Transfiguration, we need to be proactive and age you again with more Transfiguration…"

"What if you turn me into a sixty-year-old woman?" Hermione nearly shrieked. Severus opened her eyes to see a look of abject horror on her little face. "I'd rather be twelve than sixty!"

"Would you?" Severus said seriously. He licked his bottom lip as Hermione looked irritated. "Hermione," he said as gently as he could manage, "You and I are bound through _Magnum Verbum Honoris._ It is more than a simple marriage vow. At any given point in time, my bond to you is deeply romantic. Every fiber of my soul is in love with you, you understand? And that's perfectly fine if you look of age. It is _not_ fine if you look a child. We need to fix this. _Now_."

A look of understanding came over Hermione's face, and she nodded. When she did, her frizzy hair went flying and she murmured, "I'm sorry. We were just practicing, Severus -"

"Don't call me that, just now, will you?" Severus hissed, and Hermione looked hurt.

"What shall I call you?" she said, her face twisting oddly. "You're my husband."

Those words were awful to see coming from the girl Severus had known since she'd stepped off the first-year boats. He suddenly flashed back to the day she'd been Sorted, to how she'd happily leapt down from the platform in the Great Hall after the Sorting Hat had yelled out, ' _Gryffindor!'_ He could see her face, just as it looked now, the Halloween she'd helped fight off a mountain troll. And he remembered her, looking even older than she did now, in her third year, when he'd held her back from Remus Lupin in his werewolf form. He felt a pit in his stomach as he realized the truth. He had known her then. She had been a child then. And he had been a grown man.

True, he had not loved her. Not then. He'd barely even noticed her. But there was something very, very wrong about standing here now, bound to her with _Magnum Verbum Honoris_ , and seeing her look twelve. He searched his brain for any spell he could think of, and he rather impulsively jabbed his wand at her and said,

" _Iussos Iuventum!_ "

It wasn't a real spell. It was something he'd made up just now, out of desperation. And it had been stupid, Severus knew, to point his wand at Hermione and center his magic and incant a made-up spell. Any manner of negative effects could have befallen her. Perhaps luckily, nothing at all happened. She stood there before him, young as ever, looking confused and heartbroken. Severus lowered his wand.

The door to the classroom creaked open then, and Severus turned to see Minerva McGonagall walking in with Luna Lovegood in tow. Minerva bore an expression of concern on her wrinkled face. Severus could not help but feel profound annoyance with the old witch, and he gestured toward Hermione as he said,

"So, Minerva, you've been assigning students spells to practice that are this difficult to undo?"

Minerva gave Severus a meaningful scowl, flicked her eyes to Luna and back, and said quietly, "When performed correctly, Severus, the spell is intended to be a freckle-erasing effect for Human Transfiguration. I'm afraid Miss Lovegood mispronounced the incantation."

Severus glared at Luna Lovegood, who looked embarrassed where she stood. She mouthed an apology to Hermione, and Severus returned his gaze to Minerva McGonagall.

"How do we fix it?" he demanded.

"Well…" Minerva shifted on her feet. "I'm not sure. If the normal Untransfiguration spells haven't worked..."

Severus suddenly felt a crash of rage go through him. "Forty points from Ravenclaw, Miss Lovegood. This is ludicrous."

"Severus, _no!_ It was a mistake, for goodness' sake!" Hermione hissed from behind him. Severus whirled over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes at her. She was giving him the same horrified expression she'd given him for years when he'd taken points from Weasley or Potter, and he couldn't look at her doing that. He turned quickly back to Minerva and said sharply,

"Are there books to consult on this matter?"

Minerva pinched her lips. "I'll begin researching it straight away, of course. In the meantime, it would probably be best to send Hermione up to Madam Pomfrey. I can take her there."

Severus nodded tightly and stared out the window, but Hermione scoffed from behind him.

"You're going to make me stay in the hospital wing?" she said with disbelief. "I'm not ill, Severus. Please. I can help find a solution to this… it's still me. I turn nineteen in a week."

Severus suddenly felt as though he were going to vomit. He shut his eyes and said quietly, "Go with Professor McGonagall, Hermione. Now."

* * *

Hermione sat cross-legged atop her hospital bed, turning pages in a thick tome called _The Magic of Time and Aging._ She flicked through a chapter about aging potions and spells and finally arrived at a page that read,

 _BACKWARDS AGING AND REDISCOVERING YOUTH._

 _It may sound like an unlikely dream scenario, but witches and wizards throughout the years have occasionally managed to permanently remove the effects of aging from themselves. This may not be achieved with a potion, for any anti-aging effects will be temporary. Likewise, most anti-aging Transfigurations and spells will wear off within twenty-four hours. There are recorded cases of witches who have permanently erased up to a decade from their appearances, but no one is quite sure how they managed to do it. As for these uniquely skilled witches, they refused to share their secrets._

Hermione huffed angrily and slammed the book shut. She put it on a stack of similarly useless texts from the library and crossed her arms over her chest. She was on her third day in the hospital wing. The other students had been told that she was ill with mumblemumps and was contagious. But the truth was that Hermione's nineteenth birthday was a few days away, and she still looked twelve years old.

Severus had only come to visit her once, and he'd only stayed for fifteen minutes. Hermione could hardly blame him. She fully understood his discomfort in seeing her this way, especially since their bond of _Magnum Verbum Honoris_ was entirely romantic. Still, Hermione was beginning to believe that Severus would never want to lay eyes upon her again. He was revolted by being in the room with her, she knew, when she looked like a child. His mind was filled with memories of a lurid relationship between them. He felt _wrong_ around her, and that broke Hermione's heart.

"Hermione, dear, I've brought you some dinner." Poppy Pomfrey came striding into the main space of the hospital wing, pushing along a little cart with plates and goblets upon it. Hermione gave Madam Pomfrey a grateful little smile and mumbled her thanks. Madam Pomfrey had a first-year student in a faraway bed who apparently had a head injury, so she quickly made her exit.

Hermione poked around at the shepherd's pie for a while but found she wasn't hungry. She eventually put her fork back down and picked up the book on time and age. She read a chapter on potions that were rumored to slow down aging, but of course that was no help at all. Hermione was just about to dissolve into tears for the second time that day when she heard Severus' stern voice at the entrance of the hospital wing.

"How did he hurt his head?" Severus was asking.

"Quidditch, of course," Madam Pomfrey answered. "I've said it for years, and I'll say it again. That game is _too dangerous_ , Severus. Every blasted year, there are multiple serious injuries."

"He was playing… what? Hufflepuff Beater, is it?"

"Right. Took a Bludger straight to his skull. I've had to knock him out while his head heals up." Madam Pomfrey tutted. "He isn't ready to be on that team, Headmaster. He's just a little thing; look at him."

Hermione peered around the curtain surrounding her bed and saw Severus looming over the first-year boy's cot. He crossed his arms and shrugged. "How long will he miss classes?"

"Who can say? A week? Two?" Madam Pomfrey scoffed. "No more Quidditch when he wakes up. I'll tell you that much. I shall keep you apprised, Headmaster."

"Thank you." Severus nodded. Then he cleared his throat quietly and said, "If you'll grant me a bit of privacy, Poppy, I need to speak with Hermione."

Madam Pomfrey shifted on her feet and clasped her hands together, and she nodded. "Of course. Call for me if there's anything either of them need." She walked briskly from the hospital wing.

Hermione felt her heart thrumming in her chest as Severus came striding over toward her bed. Finally he rounded the curtain around her bed and sank into the chair beside her. Hermione smiled at him, though the smile did not reach her eyes. He did not smile back. She noticed at once that he looked profoundly tired. There were deep lines around his eyes and lips, and his gaze was sunken and dark. His skin was more sallow than usual, and his neck seemed less tight. His hair looked more dull, and she frowned as she swore there was more grey in there than she remembered.

"Severus, are you all right?" she asked, her voice tight with concern. "People in glass houses and all, but… you look awful."

Severus chuckled bitterly and said, "This is what you have to look forward to, I'm afraid. This is me seven from now." He curled the corners of his lips up in an unhappy smirk, and Hermione felt her mouth fall open as she realized what he meant.

"Oh…" she breathed, and she nodded frantically. "You've figured something out."

"I believe so." Severus nodded and pulled his wand from his frock coat.

She shouldn't be surprised, she knew, that he could invent a solution for a new problem. After all, he was the Half-Blood Prince whose old textbook had contained a dizzying array of workarounds and invented spells. He had been a genius young potioneer and spell innovator as a young man. Why would he not still be that way? Hermione watched as Severus pointed his black wand at her chest, and she shivered. He cleared his throat and raised his eyes to hers.

"I don't ever want to see you like this again," he said, and she tried to smile. But then she felt magic coursing out of his wand, and he said firmly, " _Dabo Annum. Dabo Annum. Dabo Annum. Dabo Annum. Dabo Annum. Dabo Annum. Dabo Annum._ "

With every incantation of his spell, a thrum of magic pulsed through Hermione's veins. Gradually, she felt her bones and skin stretching and contorting. She hoped very intensely that each of his seven incantations gave her a year of appearance back, as he said. Finally, the vibrations and buzzing stilled, and Hermione stared at Severus with a question in her eyes. He lowered his gaze to his lap and cleared his throat.

"Much better," he mumbled.

"Is it?" Hermione reached anxiously for her wand and Conjured a mirror. She touched her cheekbones and her nose, glad to see that she looked more like a woman than a little girl. She nearly squealed with delight at the way her face was sharp and womanly again, the way her chest felt more full with grown-in breasts. She had never been so happy to be very-nearly-nineteen. She grinned widely and threw herself toward Severus, wrapping her arms around his neck and impulsively climbing onto him where he sat in the chair.

"Thank you. Thank you, you brilliant man," she said into his ear, kissing his cheek frantically. Severus pulled her away gently and stared at her face for a long while. He dragged his thumb over her bottom lip, and his black eyes bored into her brown ones for what felt like an eternity. Then at last he said tightly,

"Now. As for me… I think I shall be content to wait seven years to look this old. This is the result of experimentation to get the Untransfiguration spell right. I should prefer to not to look forty-five until I'm actually forty-five, if you please. Sit back, will you?"

She did, going back to her cross-legged position on the hospital bed. Severus turned his wand on himself and cleared his throat before he said quietly,

" _Tollo Annum. Tollo Annum. Tollo Annum. Tollo Annum. Tollo Annum. Tollo Annum. Tollo Annum._ "

What happened to him then was the reverse of what had happened to Hermione. She watched as the lines and wrinkles on his face softened a bit. The number of greys in his hair decreased substantially, and the tiredness in his eyes lessened. It was astonishing, she thought, what a difference seven years made when it came and went so very quickly. In just a few moments, Severus looked the way she'd always known him. But then, Hermione thought, she'd actually known Severus since he'd been thirty-one years old. Surely he had looked much younger then. She couldn't exactly remember; when the years passed at a natural pace, aging felt natural, too.

That was the lesson in all of this, she realized. They'd only been alarmed by what had happened because of the joltingly large changes. Time _was_ an odd thing, but humans were accustomed to moving through it in a linear and predictable fashion. During her third year, when she'd used a Time Turner, Hermione had become all too familiar with the disorienting effect that came when time wasn't constant and steadily forward-moving.

She sighed and took Severus' hands in hers. She squeezed his fingers and asked, "May I _please_ sleep in our bed tonight, husband?"

"Yes, you may," he answered. "I hope you can understand why I could not possibly permit…"

He trailed off, but she knew what he meant. She smiled and nodded, and she said in a sly voice, "I think I'm most excited, honestly, to go back to lessons tomorrow."

"Yes, I suppose you probably are." Severus rolled his eyes at her. "Professor Babbling will be elated to see you in Ancient Runes in the morning, and Septima Vector's been sorely missing you in Advanced Arithmancy."

"And I'm very sure that Percy - that Professor Weasley - was devastated not to have me in lessons this afternoon," Hermione said snidely, and Severus shot her a warning glare.

"Let's go, then," he said, "and let Poppy attend to the first-year Hufflepuff who couldn't keep his skull away from a Bludger."

* * *

"You've got to be joking…" Ginny groaned beside Hermione. Up at the blackboard, Percy Weasley was scratching out,

 _Find an opposite-gendered duelling partner from another House. Nonverbal spells only - Focus on blocking and offensive strategies. Complete matches - best three of five._

Ginny sighed loudly again, looking at Hermione with annoyance. "As if we didn't get enough real-world experience with duelling at Malfoy Manor, eh?" she hissed, and Hermione tried not to snort. It was true; over the past twelve months, she and Ginny (along with Harry and Luna, and many others) had experienced more real-world duelling experience than Percy Weasley could ever hope to replicate in a classroom. Hermione glanced around and shrugged as she said,

"Breccan Burke didn't fight in the battle at Malfoy Manor. I don't suppose you'd have difficulty dueling him."

Ginny cast her eyes to the gangly Ravenclaw, the descendant of an old wizarding family, who sat with his nose buried in a book. He pushed a pair of thick-rimmed glasses up his face and dragged his thick blond curls back with spindly fingers. Ginny sighed.

"Right. Breccan Burke it is," she said solemnly. "And you?"

"Hmm." Hermione rose from her chair and walked over to a desk where Justin Finch-Fletchley sat talking to Hannah Abbot. "Pardon me, Justin," she said. "Would you mind duelling with me? It says ' _opposite-gendered duelling partner from another House_.'"

"Oh. Yeah, of course. That'll do, Hermione," Justin nodded. He smiled at Hannah and said, "See you."

Justin and Hermione made their way to the open stretch of classroom that Percy had set aside for duelling. Seventh and eighth year students had lined up along opposite walls and had begun bowing respectfully at one another. Suddenly, from the front of the classroom, Percy Weasley barked out,

"Remember to keep all spells Nonverbal! The element of surprise is enormously important in real-world duelling."

Hermione rolled her eyes a bit, remembering what Ginny had said. Few of them needed instruction on 'real world duelling.' Just the same, Hermione held her wand out toward Justin and thought carefully, _Pellio!_

Justin Finch-Fletchley, it seemed, was not an adept spell-blocker. The backs of his hands and his face instantly began to sprout thick patches of fur, and he looked rather beastly. Justin scowled but held his wand out toward Hermione. There was a minute movement at the tip of his wand when he cast his nonverbal spell, and Hermione slashed her own wand quickly and thought, _Protego!_ Justin's spell hit an invisible shield before her and shattered into white sparks. Hermione instantly circled her wand and silently incanted, _Ferilis!_

Her spell socked Justin square in his chest, and he got an odd look on his face before dropping his wand to the floor with a clatter. He was still covered in hair, and so when he descended to his hands and knees and began crawling about like a cat, the effect was rather convincing. It was altogether alarming, though, when Justin went over to Luna Lovegood and began pawing at her robes in a most undignified fashion. Luna stopped duelling Dean Thomas and patted Justin's head.

"Hello, there, Justin," she said. "Looks like you've become an animal for the day, eh?"

"Oh, dear," Hermione muttered, and she ignored the uproarious laughter that had taken over the room as she pointed her wand at Justin and said, " _Finite Incantatem._ "

Justin's thick coat of fur disappeared, and all of a sudden he seemed to realize that he was on all fours being petted by Luna Lovegood. He flew upward and backward, and all the while Luna gazed at him serenely. People kept laughing, and Justin snatched his wand off the ground and adjusted his Head Boy badge as his cheeks grew hot and red. He scowled at Hermione with a look of pure loathing, and Percy Weasley said half-heartedly,

"Right. Everyone back to your own pairings. Keep duelling."

"Sorry about that, Justin," Hermione said genuinely. "I should have chosen different spells, probably."

"Yeah, well… I'm sure you've learned how to duel really well from the Headmaster, eh?" Justin sneered. His face was ugly with embarrassment and jealousy, but all Hermione could do was gulp as her cheeks went hot. She raised her wand again, bowed, and prepared to duel once more. But before she could cast her first spell, Justin's hex hit her. It seemed he was filled with fire in the wake of his humiliation, for Hermione had no time to block his spell, nor even to process what had hit her.

She was unconscious a split second after she saw the blue flash of light.

* * *

"Honestly, Severus, I'm fine."

"Not yet, you aren't. Everyone in that classroom said that you flew backward into a pillar, landed on the ground with a crunch, and that your arm and leg were very evidently broken. You'll have to stay here until tomorrow, or until Poppy decides your bones and head are all right. You're no better than that bloody first-year Quidditch player," Severus scolded her. He glanced around the hospital wing and sighed heavily. He had not exactly been expecting for Hermione to land herself back in here just one day after being released.

"Did Madam Pomfrey use _Ferula_?" Hermione asked quietly, and Severus furrowed his brow at her.

"What?"

"To heal my broken bones. Did she use _Ferula?_ The spell?"

"I would assume so. I had fifth-year Potions; I wasn't here yet," Severus admitted. "Why?"

Hermione got a strangely nostalgic look on her face, and she whispered, "Look into my head."

Severus frowned, confused, but he murmured, " _Legilimens._ "

She was pushing a memory strongly forward. It was her sixth year, Severus could see, and he was teaching a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson.

 _"Mister Weasley," Severus snapped to Ron, "name a basic but effective spell for healing a broken bone."_

 _Ronald Weasley stared blankly at Severus, and then he shrugged. "I dunno, sir," he admitted. One table over, Hermione's arm shot up and she made a little noise as she tried to get Severus' attention. He rolled his eyes and ignored her._

 _"Mr. Malfoy?" he droned to Draco._

 _"I'm sorry, sir?" Draco said, looking distracted._

 _"A healing spell for a broken bone, Mr. Malfoy." Severus pursed his lips in annoyance. Draco put the little book he was reading down. Severus clarified, "A spell that one might use if a bone had been broken and one had no access to a healing potion."_

 _Draco jolted to attention and nodded. "Er… well, I suppose one might use 'episkey,'" he said quietly._

 _"That would suffice," Severus muttered. He turned and started pacing again, but Hermione was still waving her arm wildly. Draco's answer was positively imbecilic._

 _"Please, sir," she called out, unable to control herself. Severus whirled to shoot her an angry glare. In previous years, his enraged scowl would have silenced her and lowered her arm, but she persisted. "Episkey would work for something like a nasal fracture or a black eye, but for a broken bone, it would be grossly insufficient, would it not? I would recommend a spell such as Ferula, which would bandage and splint the broken bone. It also provides some pain relief. Even reparifors would likely be more effective than episkey, provided that the bone had been broken through magical means. But, in any case, I don't think episkey would be strong enough to fix anything but cartilage or tissue… certainly not a broken bone!"_

 _She was silent then, as were the rest of the students, who stared from Hermione back up to Severus to see how he was going to react to her outburst. Severus pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at her._

 _"Miss Granger, did I call upon you to speak?" Severus snarled at her. Hermione's eyes went wide with fear._

 _"No, sir," she squeaked. Severus' mouth twitched._

 _"No, Miss Granger. I did not ask for your opinion. I asked Mr. Weasley, and then Mr. Malfoy. If I would like to hear you speak, you shall be appropriately notified. Until then, be silent. Twenty points from Gryffindor for your obnoxious little tantrum."_

Severus yanked himself from Hermione's mind and smirked at her. He knew why it was she'd shown him that memory, especially since she'd so recently gone through a nearly-identical disciplinary experience with Percy Weasley.

"Some things never change," Severus acknowledged. "Other things do. I hope very dearly, for example, that Percy Weasley does not think of you the way I did that day."

From the sounds of things, Hermione had gravely embarrassed the Head Boy, Justin Finch-Fletchley, by covering him in hair and making him behave like an animal during lessons. The boy had lashed out with an over-charged Stunning Spell. He'd been distraught to see how badly Hermione had been hurt. Severus had ensured that Percy Weasley had only taken ten points from Hufflepuff for the poorly-chosen spell, and the Head Boy had not received detentions. Hermione had rather brought this on herself, Severus reckoned.

He reached out and stroked Hermione's elbow, the one that had been broken. Poppy Pomfrey had healed it well with her _Ferula_ spell, and Severus thought it was probably just fine at this point.

"I should think I'll be able to care for any pain you might have tonight with a bit of butterfly weed balm," Severus noted. Hermione shut her eyes against the feel of Severus' fingers on her skin and nodded intently.

"You were right, you know," he told her an hour later, as he rubbed the creamy ointment into her skin. " _Ferula_ works far better than _Episkey_ for matters such as this."

"Yes, well… I trust your judgment with spells," she smiled. He knew she was referencing the way he'd come up with a workaround to the age-defying fiasco. He raised his eyebrows and said,

"I could not allow you to spend your nineteenth birthday looking twelve. Oh. That reminds me. I've made plans for your birthday. Be prepared to go out past the Apparition Point. You and I are going to London."

"To London?" Hermione repeated, her eyebrows flying upward. She looked excited for a moment, but then her face went serious as she said, "That doesn't seem fair, Severus; no one else gets to leave except to go to Hogsmeade. Why should I -"

"Because you are my wife, and because it is your birthday," Severus said firmly. He finished rubbing the butterfly weed balm on her healing arm and cupped her jaw in his free hand. He feigned seriousness in his voice then as he said, "Have yourself primped and polished, Madam Granger, by six-thirty sharp. I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Oh. All right, then," Hermione breathed. Severus touched his lips to hers and pulled back as he said,

"Until then, do try not to have any more disasters, will you?"

* * *

The morning of Hermione's birthday dawned grey and dreary. By eight o'clock, it had begun to rain. But Hermione's bright mood could not be dampened. At breakfast, Ginny flashed her a warm smile and sauntered over with a copy of the _Daily Prophet._

"Happy Birthday, 'Mione. Have you seen this?" Ginny thrust forth the _Daily Prophet,_ and Hermione took it as she set down her apple. On the front page of the newspaper was a smiling, black-and-white photograph of herself.

The headline read, _WIZARDING HEROINE CELEBRATES 19TH BIRTHDAY._ The byline was from Arden Colporter, an journalist who had worked for the _Prophet_ for nearly seventy years. Hermione had met the old witch once or twice throughout the course of post-Voldemort interview junkets. She had seemed serious, capable, and kindly all at once, and Hermione had been impressed. The article Arden Colporter had penned to commemorate Hermione's birthday was no exception to her standards.

" _It would all too easy to think of Hermione Granger as the good friend of the famous Harry Potter, or as the wife of esteemed Hogwarts Headmaster and Dark wizard slayer Severus Snape. But it is important to remember that Madam Granger has had the Order of Merlin, First Class bestowed upon her of her own right for acts of ferocious courage during the Second Wizarding War. Indeed, multiple reports state that without Hermione Granger, Lord Voldemort would never have been defeated at all. Harry Potter himself corroborates the crucial role Madam Granger played in the former Dark Lord's downfall._

' _When Albus Dumbledore discovered the existence of Voldemort's horcruxes,' Mr Potter says, 'it was Hermione who effectively tracked them down. She destroyed them, one by one, very often with her own hand. Without her brains, her bravery, and her determination, I fear we would all be living under Voldemort's boot still.'_

 _This reporter and the entire staff of the Daily Prophet would like to extend a most hearty happy birthday to Hermione Granger. We wish her a long life, one of peace in the wake of her grand accomplishments. We thank her for all she has done to help secure a prosperous and open future for all wizardkind._

 _Happy birthday, Madam Granger. May your life be full of joy."_

Hermione swiped tears away from her eyes as she set the _Daily Prophet_ down upon the Gryffindor dining table. "That was very kind of Ms. Colporter," she said at last. "And of Harry."

"You've earned every bit of that praise and more," Ginny said firmly. She sat opposite Hermione and took an apple from the bowl in the middle of the table. As Ginny tucked into her apple, Hermione glanced around the Great Hall and saw that many other students were reading the newspaper this morning. Several shot Hermione apologetic glances, as if to note that they hadn't been appreciative enough of Hermione's war efforts. She sighed lightly and turned back to Ginny.

"Severus is taking me to London for my birthday," she said, to pull her mind off the uncomfortable topic of glory. Ginny's ginger eyebrows flew up as she chewed her apple.

"London?" she repeated. She flicked her brown eyes up to the staff table and nodded, impressed. "What's he got planned, then?"

"No idea," Hermione said honestly. "He won't tell me anything. I don't even know what to wear."

"That lovely forest green wool frock you've got," Ginny told her, and Hermione nodded slowly. This was part of what she liked about Ginny; the girl had a no-nonsense, sensible, yet forward-thinking approach to life.

The rest of Hermione's day proceeded entirely without incident. Advanced Arithmancy and Transfiguration were even more pleasant than usual. In History of Magic, Professor Binns seemed half-alive. Even Percy Weasley was almost pleasant to Hermione, mumbling a half-hearted wish for a happy birthday in her general direction as she walked from the Defense classroom.

Hermione spent two hours after lessons in the library. Just because she and Severus were absconding across Britain for a date did not mean Hermione didn't have homework. She finished up her History of Magic essay and a comparative analysis of various magical flames for Charms, and then she made her way down to the dungeons. Severus had already come and gone, it seemed. Hermione rushed to ready herself, yanking on the dark green wool dress Ginny had recommended, along with a mustard-colored cardigan. She made a half-hearted attempt to smooth her hair into waves around her shoulders before realizing the drizzle outside would muck it up, and she surrendered by tying it back into a low, tight chignon with a strip of green velvet as a headband. She took five minutes to apply a bit of powder, mascara, and lip balm, and she slipped on simple flat shoes before glancing in the mirror.

 _Well, if he thinks you're ugly on your own birthday, he isn't fit to be your husband,_ Hermione thought, looking her own reflection up and down and shrugging. She made her way upstairs and out the front doors of Hogwarts, pulling her rain jacket more closely about her in the evening mist.

Finally she neared the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where she'd agreed to meet Severus. From far away, he appeared as a shadowy silhouette, half-hidden by the evergreen branches hanging above his head. As Hermione stepped closer to him, she could see that he'd put on a black suit, black dress shirt, and a crisp black tie. He'd combed his hair more carefully than usual, too. She chuckled as she pulled up to him and touched his shirt.

"You look like a Muggle," she grinned up at him. He frowned and shifted on his feet, and Hermione quickly amended, "A handsome Muggle, to be certain."

"Happy birthday, you mawkish little thing. Shall we go?" Severus suggested, flicking up an eyebrow and holding out his arm to Hermione. She nodded crisply and laced her arm through his. Severus did not move, and Hermione looked up at him, confused. His throat bobbed, and he said quietly, "You're beautiful, you know. Today. Every day. I love you."

Hermione felt her mouth fall open, and she nodded mutely. Finally, she managed to whisper, "I love you, too, Severus."

"Right. Let's go, then," he said crisply, and Hermione felt her arm tug against him as he Disapparated. Most witches and wizards were utterly incapable of Side-Along Apparition, for it was a complication added to an already advanced maneuver. But Severus was more than adept at bringing Hermione along with him. The black, pinching, whirling nothingness lasted only a brief moment, and then Hermione felt her feet slam onto pavement. She caught her breath and quickly realized that it was not raining where they were. She looked around herself and frowned deeply.

"Muswell Hill?" she breathed, stepping out from the alley into which they'd appeared. "Why have we come here?"

It was the London suburb where she'd grown up. Hermione padded out onto Fortis Green Road and felt her eyes sting as she recognized all the shops and Victorian buildings from her youth. She turned over her shoulder and shot Severus a questioning glare. He chewed his bottom lip carefully and said,

"There is a Greek restaurant just up on Muswell Hill Broadway. You have told me before that you used to very much enjoy eating there. Would you like to go now?"

Hermione nodded, for that was all she could do. She put her hand in Severus' and let him guide her up the road. They passed the towering steeple of St. James' church and turned left onto the Broadway. In the dim light of the evening, Hermione took note of the elegant red brick buildings that lined the way. She began to pull upon Severus, for it was she who knew these streets like the back of her hand.

They finally came to the gleaming wooden entrance of Troodos, the classic beamed tavern where Hermione had taken many a cheap meal with her parents. They were dreadfully overdressed for the place, with Severus in his full tailored suit and Hermione in her knee-length woolen dress. But Hermione didn't care. Severus held the door for her, and as she stepped into the restaurant, she was hit square in the face with the delectable aromas of lemon and garlic and cooking meats. Hermione glanced about and recognized a few familiar faces. None seemed so happy to see her as Agda, the warm-hearted matron of the tavern. She came bustling over the front door, wiping her hands on the black apron about her waist, and suddenly Hermione found herself wrapped up in a tight squeeze.

"Hermione Granger! It's been… what, perhaps three years since you have been here! You used to come all the time with your dear Papa and Mama. How are they? How are _you_? And who is _this_? Come and sit down. Come, come."

Hermione grinned widely as she followed Agda to a table. Severus made a move to pull out Hermione's chair for her, but Agda shooed him away and did it herself. She tucked Hermione's napkin onto her lap and called out behind her,

"Tadeas, get a lamb meze started for _paidi mou_." Agda turned back to the table and said quickly to Severus, "It's a series of cold appetizers, dips and pitta breads, and lamb dishes. You'll enjoy it. So, Hermione, where have you been? You are beautiful. Your hair is beautiful!"

Severus smirked across the table, and Hermione flashed him an apologetic look before smiling warmly up at Agda. "I've been off at boarding school, you know," she told Agda, "and my parents… erm…"

She wasn't certain what exactly to say. _I was deeply involved in a wizarding war, Agda, and my parents' safety was at risk. We performed a memory-wiping spell upon them and sent them to Australia. That's where they are now._

"My parents are well," she said at last, and Agda grinned.

"Oh, well, we have missed you. You must come back and eat our _tiropitakia._ You look thin. And who is this?" She gestured grandly toward Severus, who rose from his chair and inclined his head.

"Severus Snape, madam. I'm Hermione's husband."

Hermione was rather surprised to hear Severus admit to that, and for a brief moment she fell into the same shocked silence as Agda. The plump Greek woman cast her wide eyes back and forth between Severus and Hermione a few times, and then a rather forced smile came over her face.

" _Opa!_ Married! Congratulations to you both. I shall have some Ouzo Plomari sent right over." She patted Hermione's shoulder and her plastered-on smiled warmed a bit as she nodded. "Good to have you back, Hermione."

The rest of the meal was very pleasant as Hermione and Severus sipped at their ice-cold ouzo and ate olives and lamb and tzatziki sauce. When Severus pulled out Muggle money to pay, Hermione thought that she would rather not know where he'd gotten it from. But it didn't seem to matter, for dear old Agda told them the meal was a gift and all she wanted in exchange was the promise of another visit soon. Hermione agreed and Severus reluctantly tucked the bills away again. As they strolled back toward Fortis Green Road, Hermione squeezed Severus' hand and murmured,

"Thank you. What a lovely birthday surprise."

"We've one more place to go before we head back to Hogwarts, I think," Severus told her, and Hermione frowned as he began to pull her to his right, up the street in a direction that felt far too familiar. Hermione yanked back on him and stopped her steps.

"Where are you going, Severus?" she asked, her voice carrying a warning. Severus pinched his lips as he looked back to her.

"Just come with me, will you?"

Hermione felt uneasy as she walked with him toward her parents' house. When the stout red brick structure came into view, her belly flopped and her ears rang and went hot. Her instinct was to pull out her wand and prepare for a fight, for the last years of her life had taught her to react that way in uncomfortable situations. But this shouldn't have been an uncomfortable place, Hermione knew. It was her home. Or, at least, it had been, once upon a time. She stood before the iron gate, her hands gripping the spindles as she stared up at her old bedroom window. She gulped heavily and whispered to Severus,

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Go up and knock on the door," Severus said simply. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. Her parents were in Australia. They had no idea who she was. What good would it do to knock on their door? Severus just nodded once and said again, very seriously, "Go and knock on the door, Hermione."

She was numb and cold as she pushed the creaking iron gate open. Her feet carried her of their own accord up the concrete stoop, and her hand shook fiercely as it rose to the brass knocker. She clacked it four times upon the front door, but nothing happened. Her stomach fluttered and her breath hitched, and Hermione peered through the lace curtains to try to see inside the house. She was about to whirl around and demand an explanation from Severus when the door opened slowly. Hermione's eyes flew to the threshold, and she nearly collapsed.

"Mum," she whispered, and she hurled herself forward. She could not control herself, and she suddenly found that she did not care at all that her parents did not remember her. She needed to embrace her mother; it was as simple as that. She could feel her father's hand rubbing her shoulders gently, could hear his voice shushing her. She could smell her mother's dignified perfume as she sobbed, and she said again, "Mum… Mum! Dad!"

"Happy birthday, Hermione," her mother answered.

* * *

Severus Snape was very accomplished at keeping secrets, but the ones about Hermione's parents had been the most difficult to conceal in his life.

The process of returning Hermione's parents to her had been arduous and risky. In mid-May, Severus had determined that the risk of Death Eaters and Dark wizards had gone at last, and he'd resolved to reunite Hermione with her parents. He had lied to Hermione - something he strove never to do - and had told her he was going to Hogwarts for a week to prepare for the upcoming term. He had finished his business at the school in two days flat, and then had gotten on a Muggle airliner to Australia.

Mr and Mrs Granger appeared to have settled well into Melbourne. When Severus found them, they were eating lunch at a breezy café and discussing the latest films. He'd surreptitiously searched their minds from another table at the café, and he had been utterly unable to find a trace of Hermione.

The next day, Severus had gone to Granger Dental Clinic on Spencer Street and had managed to get both dentists in the same room. He was committing multiple gross violations of international statutes protecting Muggles from magic, he knew, but there was nothing to be done. Anyway, in the wake of the war, the British Ministry had enough to worry about without fretting over whether Voldemort's killer was futzing with Muggle memories. Severus had cajoled the Grangers back to their home, and he'd spent the next three days carefully deleting and replacing memories.

This process had continued over four more trips. Of course, what Severus was able to do in terms of replacing the Grangers' memories was somewhat limited. It would have been easier, probably, for Hermione to do it, since she possessed the real, visceral memories of her own childhood. It certainly would have been better if a less-damaging memory spell had been used in the first place; _Obliviate_ was notoriously hard to untangle. But by mid-July, Mr and Mrs Granger were more or less back to their old selves, and at the end of the month, they were on an airplane bound for London.

They had been shocked, of course, to hear of what had happened in the wizarding world. They seemed distraught at the concept of Hermione fearing for her own life and for others'. And, most of all, they were alarmed to hear that their only child had married herself off at eighteen to a man more than twice her age. That conversation had been a long and uncomfortable one on a connecting flight between Shanghai and London.

"You were her teacher, then?" Mr Granger had asked, curling his lip up from where he sat beside Severus on the airplane. From time to time, the man's memory seemed to flicker and blip. Severus pursed his lips.

"I was the Potions Master for the first six years of Hermione's education, and then I taught her Defense Against the Dark Arts," he had said very quietly, wishing that a _Muffliato_ around their seats wouldn't be have hampered by the airplane's busy electronics. Severus had chosen his words very carefully then as he looked at the Grangers. "I began private lessons with her to help her augment her skills due to the conflicts in the community. I meant to help her protect herself. She is very able, as you well know. I did not mean to fall in love with her, but it happened. And it would seem a terribly uncivilized thing to do to fall in love with a woman and not commit oneself fully to her, don't you agree? I promise you, Mr and Mrs Granger, that I love your daughter very dearly. And I shall strive always to be a fine husband for her."

The Grangers had very slowly come around. Through letter exchanges over the next six weeks, Severus had plotted with them to bring Hermione to London on her birthday. He would send a bag ahead for her, with clothing and toiletries, so that she might stay a few nights and reconnect with her parents. After all, the girl had not seen her mother and father properly in over two years. She'd last seen them over a year earlier, but that had been for a brief and painful visit that ended in wiping their memories. Before that, Hermione had spent the Christmas holidays of her sixth year at Hogwarts, so she hadn't seen her parents for any pleasant length of time since the summer between her fifth and sixth years. Undoubtedly, the family had a fair bit of catching up to do.

Now Severus stood with one hand upon the iron gate outside the Grangers' house, watching as Hermione sobbed in her mother's arms and frantically tried to figure out her parents' mental state. Once Hermione established that her parents knew and remembered her, the little gathering had begun to move into the house. Severus prepared himself to leave, feeling very much like an unwanted intruder in the family's private moment. He smiled a bit to himself, glad that all had worked out according to plan. But then, suddenly, he heard Hermione's cracked voice say,

"Mum, Dad… you've already met him, but I feel as though I ought to introduce him to you just the same. This is my husband, Severus. Come on inside, will you, Severus? Come and I shall make everyone some tea."

She beckoned to him, to where he stood by the gate. He hesitated, trying to put himself in the Grangers' shoes and thinking if he were them, he'd want time alone with Hermione. But they were a unit now; they were bound by marriage and something much deeper than that. Mrs Granger seemed to be able to sense this. She squeezed her daughter's hand and kissed the top of her head, and she nodded toward the man who had both taken and restored her memory.

"Please do come in," she said in a kind tone. "I started a kettle five minutes before you got here. _I_ shall make the tea."

Severus smirked, seeing at once from where Hermione had inherited her fiery determination. He nodded and adjusted the hem of his black suit coat, and he walked up the concrete steps into his mother-in-law's parlor.


	8. Chapter 8

The first snowfall of the year happened in mid-November at Hogwarts. Very quickly, the autumn surrendered entirely to the cold allure of winter. The birds quieted. The boughs of the evergreens grew heavy with snow that did not let up. A delicate hush came over the whole place, in a way that made it feel more like home than ever to Severus Snape.

On the tenth of December, he sat in his Potions office ticking off incorrect answers on third-year Hufflepuff exams. He sighed heavily as he noted that over half the students had missed a question about the use of porcupine quills. That concept, he thought, would need urgent reinforcement. There was a quick, insistent knocking upon the door of his office as Severus stacked the exams neatly. He glanced up and smirked. Most people did not have so predictable or consistent a knocking pattern as did his wife. But Hermione always knocked four times - four raps, firm and evenly spaced. He set down his quill and called out,

"Enter."

The door to the office creaked open, and Hermione came sauntering in and pulled her rucksack off her shoulder. She plopped it down in the chair opposite Severus and paced with her arms crossed over her chest. Severus threw up an eyebrow at the sense of urgency she seemed to possess.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, and Hermione huffed,

"I assume you've seen today's _Daily Prophet._ "

"I have not," Severus admitted. Hermione rushed to unbuckle her rucksack, and she yanked out a copy of the newspaper and tossed it down with disgust upon her face. Severus pulled the newspaper across the desk and felt his stomach flop when he saw the photograph on the front page. There, in vibrant black-and-white, was an image of Albus Dumbledore. Severus pinched his lips and felt queasy as he read the headline.

 _GRISLY DETAILS EMERGE ABOUT DEATH OF DUMBLEDORE_

Severus sighed and glanced up to Hermione for a moment. Her eyes were red and puffy, and Severus suddenly realized she had been crying. He was disinclined to read the article, but he forced his eyes back down to the page.

 _It is no secret that the old-money Malfoy family were not friends of Albus Dumbledore. Lucius Malfoy was personally responsible for attempting to remove Dumbledore from his post at Hogwarts in 1993. Over the next several years, Lucius Malfoy ran into trouble again and again, frequently with Albus Dumbledore involved. Lucius ended up in Azkaban, and then escaped. However, there is strong evidence that Lucius Malfoy defected from the Death Eaters at some point and had his personal property seized by Voldemort. As a result of his defection and his willingness to help track down former Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy will serve no additional prison time. His wife Narcissa and son Draco are undoubtedly grateful that their patriarch's messy Death Eater past has been forgiven in the wake of the War._

 _But what was Lucius Malfoy's role the night that Albus Dumbledore died? And if he has so much information to give on other Death Eaters, what can he tell us about that awful night on the Lightning-Struck Tower? It is beginning to look as though the answer to that question is, 'Quite a lot.'_

 _In a recent information-gathering session at the Ministry, Lucius Malfoy told for the first time what happened to Dumbledore the night he was killed. Malfoy said that his son, Draco, was personally recruited by Voldemort to murder Dumbledore. This claim has been corroborated by many other former Death Eaters. But did Draco Malfoy kill his headmaster? Lucius Malfoy says 'no,' and so do a great many former Death Eaters. They claim that Albus Dumbledore was actually killed by none other than Severus Snape - current Hogwarts headmaster and recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class. But was Snape involved in a power grab, or in a dastardly Death Eater plot? Not so, says Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt._

' _It was a very complicated situation,' Minister Shacklebolt insists. 'Albus Dumbledore actually knew ahead of time that Draco Malfoy had been required to murder him. He was concerned for the well-being of the boy's soul, and so he requested that his friend Severus Snape - acting at the time as a double agent - do the deed instead. In throwing Dumbledore from the Astronomy Tower, Professor Snape spared young Draco Malfoy a lifetime of guilt and possibly desecration of his soul. It was, in a strange way, an act of mercy.'_

 _The facts are these: apparently Severus Snape killed Albus Dumbledore. The Death Eaters at the time believed the killing to be an act of loyalty toward Voldemort, while anti-Voldemort heroes insist that Snape's actions indicated loyalty to the Light. The Daily Prophet leaves it to its readers to interpret this information as you will. In any case, it can be well and truly agreed that Albus Dumbledore is dearly missed._

Severus set the newspaper down and touched his fingertips together. He sighed, and the sigh felt much heavier in the quiet room than usual because of the tension radiating from Hermione. He met her chocolate eyes at last and shrugged.

"They left out the bit about my Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa Malfoy, which, of course, no one else knew about at the time. Bellatrix knew, but she's dead. And I don't suppose Narcissa Malfoy would be inclined to reveal that she ensured backup in case of her son's inadequacy. Other than that, I fail to see what's so very objectionable in this article. There's certainly nothing here that should have brought you to tears. So, Hermione, tell me why you're angry."

"They're calling you a murderer!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly, and Severus struggled not to let out a derisive snort.

"I _am_ a murderer," he reminded her. He leaned forward in his chair and put his hands on his desk. He watched her face curl into a grimace of pain as he spoke. "I killed Albus Dumbledore. I killed Remus Lupin. I killed Bellatrix Lestrange, and I killed Lord Voldemort. Shall I go on, Hermione? I _am_ a murderer. This article is actually rather flattering, all things considered."

Hermione scoffed and shook her head. "Everything you did, you did because -"

"I only defected from the Death Eaters and joined Dumbledore in a foolish attempt to save Lily Evans' life. You should know that," Severus spat at last. He was frustrated with her, with her inability to see how very _human_ everyone and everything involved in these wars had been. Hermione's grimace deepened, and she whispered,

"What do you mean, Severus? You… what, you still wanted to be a Death Eater?"

Severus sighed and rubbed at his temples. He kept his eyes shut as he said, "I went to Albus Dumbledore when I became aware of a plot - in reaction to the prophecy - to kill James and Lily."

"And their son," Hermione said in a venomous tone. "And their son, Harry. Isn't that right?"

Severus cracked open his eyes and scowled. "Yes," he said finally. "I begged Dumbledore to save them. I began working as a double agent. But Lily still died. And I was utterly trapped. Do you want to know what it is that made me realize once and for all that I was _not_ , at my very core, a true Death Eater?"

"No," Hermione admitted. She swiped at her eyes. "No, I don't want to know."

Severus rose to his feet and walked around his desk. He put his hands upon her shoulders and felt her flinch under his touch. He met her eyes with a burning stare and said in a firm tone, "You. It was _you_ , Hermione Jean Granger. Until I feared for your life, I don't suppose I fully understood what a fine mess I'd gotten myself into. Now you are all I live for. The Mark that I had put on my arm, and the work I did for Dumbledore… none of it matters now, you understand? I don't ever want to talk about Dark and Light again. There is only you for me. You ought to know that from the day I realized I loved you, every single action I have undertaken has been in the pursuit of your safety and happiness. I don't mean to change my motivations any time soon, so you shall have to get used to it."

There were tears properly streaming down Hermione's face now. She swiped at them with the sleeve of her Gryffindor robe, and she whispered in a cracked voice,

"Just kiss me, would you?"

Severus obeyed her, closing the gap between them in two steps and sweeping her face up to his. He delved his tongue immediately between her lips and felt her moan vibrate on his mouth. Her hands flailed helplessly in the air, finally grasping at the hem of Severus' cloak as she kissed him back. He pushed on her a bit and she stepped backward. She hit the stone wall with a quiet _oof_ , and Severus' hands immediately flew to the bottom of her skirt. He blindly hiked up the skirt and shoved aside her knickers as he pawed at her womanhood, still kissing her mouth with full vigor.

Hermione's own fingers danced frantically between the two of them as she struggled to unbutton the placket of his trousers. Then her right hand flew up and her eyes wrenched shut, and she whispered, " _Colloportus!_ "

Severus heard the lock on the door click shut, and he smirked down at Hermione.

"See?" he murmured against her lips. "Those wandless magic lessons didn't go to waste. You're very adept at it now. If nothing else good came of -"

"Quite a lot good came of all our misadventures, Severus, and you know that full well," Hermione said, staring up at Severus with a look of determination. He felt a swell of want for her at that, and he pulled his manhood from his trousers and touched the tip to Hermione's sodden entrance. He flashed her a questioning look, waiting for permission. In response, she curled one of her legs up around Severus' waist and put his hands on her thighs.

He hauled her up onto him and felt her arms trace around his neck, and then Severus could not ignore the flaming, swirling arousal coursing between their bond any longer. He drove himself into her ready body, grunting as he felt her wet, tight warmth cinch around him. It had been three weeks since they'd made love, owing to how busy the both of them were. It felt as though it had been an eternity. And yet, there was something so comforting and familiar about the feel of her body. Severus ground his hips back and forth, pulling himself halfway out and pushing in again a few dozen times before his calves started to cramp.

He held fast to Hermione and moved quickly, still inside of her, toward his desk. She yelped as he flopped her down rather unceremoniously onto the wooden desk, and he mumbled a half-hearted apology. He yanked her by the waist toward the end of the desk, inadvertently knocking her elbow into the stack of third-year Hufflepuff exams. The papers went flying, and Hermione gasped at the sight. Her right hand quickly flew out again, and she said briskly,

" _Ordino!"_

The papers stopped fluttering halfway to the ground and immediately gathered themselves into a neat stack upon the floor beside the desk. Severus chuckled, feeling more impressed than ever. Hermione let out a soft cough that Severus knew was from the effort of balling up her magic in her throat. He leaned to kiss her lips and began to pulse his hips against hers once more.

"Brilliant little thing," he purred, feeling himself swell within her. Hermione said nothing back; she was too busy grasping at Severus' hair and whimpering with pleasure. Severus relished the feel of her for a long moment as he thrust, until he knew he could hold back no longer. With a low groan, he pumped his seed into Hermione's body and felt his veins fill with satisfaction. He pulled her up against his chest for a moment and they each caught their breath. Then Hermione said,

"You know, our bedroom is just through that door there. A stone wall and a desk? My back will be sore for days."

Severus pulled her face back and brushed the pad of his thumb beneath her eye. "I'm afraid I did not have the patience for doors," he said. "I shall massage butterfly weed balm into your back later this evening to make it better. I promise."

She smirked and pushed his chest gently so he would let her go, and she adjusted her knickers and skirt as she said, "I have to go, or I'm going to be late for Professor Weasley's lesson on boggarts."

"Didn't you study boggarts in your third year?" Severus asked, cocking an eyebrow. He buttoned himself back into his trousers and sniffed, "I seem to remember hearing that Neville Longbottom's boggart took the shape of _me_."

"So it did," Hermione nodded. "I think we're doing more advanced work with them? No idea. I'll let you know later."

Severus felt uneasy then, and he pinched his lips as he took Hermione's jaw in his hand. "You have seen things far more awful than a young woman your age ought to have seen," he noted. "I'm not eager for you to reveal your darkest fears to a classroom full of children who could not possibly understand -"

"Ginny and Luna were at Malfoy Manor, too, Severus," she reminded him. "And others. Many others. I'm sure we all have different fears than would be expected of us. I shall see you tonight."

She leaned up and planted a swift kiss on his lips, and she snatched her rucksack from the chair. She walked quickly from the office, and Severus noticed that she had left the _Daily Prophet_ behind on his desk. He stared at Dumbledore's photograph on the front page for a while after Hermione left, and then he reached for his wand.

" _Evanesco._ "

* * *

"Who can tell me what a boggart looks like on its own?"

No one's hands went up. Hermione knew the answer, of course, but she was making an effort as of late to be less pushy in Percy Weasley's class.

"Anyone? Can anyone describe the appearance of a boggart that has _not_ taken the shape of a person's fears?" Percy raised his red eyebrows and shrugged. At last he said, "That's right. No one can say, because as soon as a boggart encounters a person, it takes the shape of his or her very worst fears. A boggart is a shape-shifting non-Being. Why might that designation be important?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and raised her hand, unable to pretend any longer that she did not know the answers. Percy waited for what felt like an eternity, and finally he said in a bored voice,

"Madam Granger?"

"In the fifteenth century, Burdock Muldoon organized a series of summits that sought to categorize all creatures - living, dead, and amortal - in the Magical world. While there were logistical difficulties in these summits, eventually it was determined what was counted as a Beast, what was a Being, and what was a non-Being. The non-Beings belong to a class of Magical creatures that can not be killed, but are 'amortal' rather than 'immortal.' They are not born, and they do not die. They do not possess souls. They are the very product of human emotion, and they thrive on chaos and darkness. Creatures in this class include Poltergeists, Dementors, and, of course, boggarts."

"Very good. Ten points to Gryffindor," Percy Weasley nodded, and Hermione felt a swell of glee flush through her. Beside Hermione, Luna Lovegood patted her hand and whispered,

"Well done, Hermione."

"Now, given the rather complicated nature of a boggart, actually defeating one becomes a daunting task. In your second or third year of study, you were all instructed in the spell _Riddikulus._ Of course, the Boggart-Banishing Spell does not actually dispel or destroy a boggart; it merely disables the creature by forcing one's fears to turn into something amusing. That buys a witch or wizard time and space to contain the boggart safely. And _that_ is what we shall be practicing today."

Percy gestured to four boxes upon his desk, which Hermione had not noticed up to this point. Each box was about the size of a large book. They were made of carved wood, each with a different frilly design. If Hermione hadn't known better, she would have guessed that they were jewelry boxes. But since Hermione _did_ know better, she now suspected that Percy Weasley had gotten ahold of four boggarts and had them contained upon his desk.

"You will break into four groups of five," Percy told them, "and, one by one, you will release the boggart in your group's box. When the boggart takes its shape, you must cast the _Riddikulus_ charm and wait for the boggart to become disabled. Then, quickly cast _Depulso_ and Banish the boggart fully into the box once more. Close the lid quickly and seal it with a _Colloportus_ spell. Take it in turns in your group until all have successfully released, encountered, disabled, and sealed the boggart. This task _will_ be included in your NEWT exams, so I advise you to pay close attention and put forth your full effort. Begin."

Hermione sighed as the room began to buzz with chatter and the sound of scraping chairs on the floor. She met Ginny's eyes and nodded, and Luna said from beside her,

"May I work in your group, Hermione?"

"Of course, Luna," Hermione said distractedly, watching as Ginny Weasley roped in Louis Headrick and Delia MacLachlan, two true seventh-year students. Hermione did not know Louis or Delia well, since they were each a year younger than her, but they seemed nice enough. Louis was a Ravenclaw, and Delia a Hufflepuff. Eventually, Hermione settled around a desk with her group, and Luna bravely went up to fetch them a boggart box. Hermione tried to ignore the way Louis Headrick stared at her with abject curiosity, and she said to Delia,

"Are you excited for Christmas?"

"Oh, yes," Delia grinned. "I haven't seen my mum or dad in months, of course, and I'm quite certain they're eager to spend the holidays together."

Hermione cringed as she remembered the two years she'd gone without seeing her own parents. Then she reminded herself of what Severus had done, of how he'd restored their memories and reunited her with them on her birthday. She swallowed heavily, counting the days until she would be back in Muswell Hill to celebrate the Christmas holidays. Severus had to stay at Hogwarts, of course, but he'd downright insisted that Hermione go to her parents for a few weeks.

"All right. Here we are," Louis Headrick said, shaking Hermione from her reverie. He set the wooden box down upon the desk and stepped back with his hands on his hips. Hermione sighed and felt suddenly anxious. She was not exactly certain what would appear when she encountered the boggart. Once upon a time, she had been most afraid of Professor McGonagall telling her she'd failed her exams. But Hermione reckoned her fears had probably grown darker through the years.

"I'll start," Luna said, pulling her wand out and stepping forward. Hermione threw her eyebrows up, impressed as every with Luna's outgoing nature. Delia, Ginny, and Louis stepped far back as Luna aimed her wand at the box. Luna raised her pale eyes to Hermione and said, "Hermione, if for some reason I'm not able to subdue it, come near me and we'll just confuse it, eh?"

Hermione chuckled and nodded. It was true that by having two people stand before a boggart, the result would be a jumbled mixture of fears. But Hermione wanted to let Luna try on her own, since this was apparently part of their NEWT exams.

Luna leaned forward and whispered, " _Alohomora._ " The little lock on the box clicked, and the lid of the box sprang open. Suddenly, out of thin air, a manticore appeared. It was a fearsome beast with the body of a lion and the tail of a scorpion. It was huge, hulking, and very realistic. Hermione felt her heart pound in her chest at the sight of the glaring manticore.

" _Riddikulus!_ " Luna cried, and the manticore suddenly trembled and morphed. It shrank down in size, becoming the size of house cat, and it sprouted butterfly wings. The manticore 'roared,' but the sound that came out was child-like laughter. Hermione stared at Luna, feeling more impressed than ever as Luna narrowed her eyes and chewed her lip as she focused hard.

" _Depulso!"_ she cried, and the miniature manticore went soaring back toward the box. Luna leaned forward and slammed the lid shut, and then she said, " _Colloportus!_ "

"Well done, Miss Lovegood," Percy Weasley said, sauntering over toward the group. "Ten points to Ravenclaw."

Luna beamed and glanced around the room. Hermione followed her eyes. She could see Dean Thomas standing before a heaping pile of rotting corpses, and a Slytherin girl was observing her younger sister starving and in rags. Hermione gulped heavily at the dark turn that the lesson had taken.

"Right. I'll go, then, and maybe we can get even more points for Ravenclaw, eh?" Louis Headrick feigned bravery as he took Luna's place before the boggart. He unlocked the box and released the boggart, and all of a sudden there was a great churning sea. The sides of the vision faded into the room, but there were crashing grey waves and the smell of salt air pervaded. Louis Headrick looked absolutely terrified, and Hermione wondered what on Earth had happened to the boy to make him fear the ocean so badly.

" _R-Rid-Riddikulus,_ " Louis sputtered, his cheeks going dark red as he staggered backward. The vision of the ocean suddenly began to give way as the 'water' was funneled into water balloons. One by one, the water balloons popped and vanished. " _Depulso. Colloportus,"_ said Louis Headrick, Banishing and sealing up the boggart. He shuddered after the box went quiet, and he muttered, "Glad that's over, then."

Next up was Delia MacLachlan, who for some reason saw a slaughtered sheep. She cast her _Riddikulus_ charm on the bloodied animal, and the sheep's wool quickly turned into a hundred cotton balls that went soaring about like snowflakes. Delia managed to seal up the boggart, too. When she'd finished, Luna Lovegood asked gently,

"Did you see something bad happen to an animal, Delia? One time I saw a plimpy whose legs had been tied together by merpeople. I was fishing for plimpies, but I didn't much care for the way that creature had starved to death, unable to walk about the lake. It seemed… wrong, you know? Did you see something happen to a sheep, Delia?"

Delia nodded and let out a shaking breath. "It was… my Muggle uncle. He's a sheep farmer, and when I was very small, he slaughtered one for mutton in front of me. It's frightened me ever since."

Luna gave a knowing nod and a serene smile. "I'm sure you're quite the friend to sheep now, though, aren't you?"

Hermione watched as Ginny took Delia's place in front of the wooden box. She held out her wand, and Hermione could see its tip shaking a bit as Ginny cleared her throat. She unlocked and flipped open the box, and the boggart soared out. Immediately, a vision appeared of Harry Potter holding hands with a young woman - a young woman who was _not_ Ginny. The image of Harry leaned over and passionately kissed the raven-haired woman, and Ginny's wand hand shook more fiercely than ever.

" _Riddikulus!"_ she cried, and the two figures before her suddenly swapped clothing. The image of Harry was now in a mini-skirt, pink jumper, knee socks, and Mary Jane shoes. The girl was wearing dark denims, a man's shirt, and a long black robe. The two figures glared and turned away from one another. As Ginny Banished and sealed up the boggart, Hermione realized that Ginny's greatest fear was not that Harry Potter might actually have another girlfriend. Her fear was that her own jealousy would destroy her relationship with Harry.

 _How very interesting,_ Hermione thought. At last it was her turn to step up to the boggart. She felt queasy, felt her heart pounding and her ears ringing, and her wand shook fiercely in her hand. She had no idea what she was going to see, and she was not excited to find out.

" _Alohomora,_ " she whispered, and the wooden box unlocked. Hermione leaned forward and flipped the box open, practically leaping backward as she readied herself for whatever vision would come.

She was expecting, perhaps, to see Severus' corpse, or perhaps a vision of Septima Vector discussing the way neither she nor Severus could live without the other. She would not have been surprised to see an image of herself or Severus being tortured, or to see Bellatrix Lestrange's face.

It was very surprising, though, when nothing at all appeared.

Hermione waited a beat and gulped, peering around the box as if the boggart must have been hiding. There was nothing. It was as if the box had been utterly empty. Hermione furrowed her brows and said to Ginny,

"You didn't… I don't know, _Vanish_ it or something, did you?"

"You know they can't be Vanished," Ginny shrugged. "Where did it go? Percy!"

She waved her brother-teacher over, and Percy scowled as he walked briskly to the group.

"You know, Ginevra, that you are to address me as 'Professor Weasley' in this class," he said. Ginny sighed and shrugged dismissively.

"The boggart's gone missing," she said, gesturing to how Hermione stood before the empty box. Percy Weasley frowned and looked very confused.

"Step aside, Madam Granger," he commanded her. "Ginny, go stand where she is."

Hermione and Ginny obediently traded places. Once more, Ginny's awful vision of Harry and the mysterious black-haired girl appeared. Ginny cast her _Riddikulus_ charm again, and once more the two figures traded clothes and began to scowl at each other.

"Hermione, go back in front," Percy said carefully, and Hermione took note of how he'd used her first name. She sighed lightly, feeling just as confused as everyone else. When she and Ginny traded places again, the figures of Harry and the girl disappeared. They dissolved into complete nothingness, and Hermione shrugged.

"What… I'm not afraid of anything?" she scoffed. "I can assure you _that_ is not the case."

But for the rest of the lesson, they were unable to figure out another explanation. It seemed that every time Hermione stepped before a boggart, it vanished into thin air. No fear would appear manifested before her.

By the time Hermione made her way to the Great Hall for dinner, she was feeling betrayed by her own magic and mind. She resolved to consult Severus on the matter later, over a soothing cup of tea.

* * *

"When I release the boggart, I shall step in front of it and see what fear appears," Severus told Hermione. She stared at the wooden box upon Severus' desk, which he'd obtained from Percy Weasley the day before. Severus continued, "Once I've subdued the boggart, you step in front, and we shall see what happens."

"Right." Hermione nodded crisply. She and Severus were determined to discover what had happened in the Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with the boggart. Now, five days after the incident, they stood in Severus' office with more questions and fewer answers than ever. Hermione sighed, gripping her wand tightly as she watched Severus step up to the box. He unlocked it and flipped open the lid, staggering backward as his worst fear materialized in the air before him.

It was Hermione, slumped dead upon the ground. She looked a bit older than she was now - perhaps twenty-five or thirty - but she was not an old woman. She wore a filmy white gown, and her caramel curls were scattered around her motionless, white face like a halo. Hermione knew that the vision of her was one of death, for the figure's lips had a blue tinge and her hands were rigidly clenched. Hermione gulped at the awful sight, turning away with a sensation of nausea.

" _Riddikulus,_ " Severus muttered, his voice trembling fiercely. There was no sound, and when Hermione forced her eyes back, the vision of her dead body was still there. She knew that in order to actually subdue a boggart, one had to fill one's mind with pleasant images and be able to transform the fear into something silly.

For example, in her third year, Neville Longbottom's boggart vision had been of Severus himself, looming over Neville with his lip curled up in an ugly sneer. Neville had cast _Riddikulus,_ and suddenly the vision of Severus had been wearing Neville's grandmother's clothes. Ron had seen a giant spider, which had been made silly by the addition of eight roller skates going in different directions.

But now a vision of Hermione, cold and dead, lay upon the floor of Severus' office, and it seemed as though he were unable to muster enough humor to overcome it. Hermione watched as Severus' face pinched as if in pain, and he aimed his wand at the boggart again.

" _Riddikulus!"_ he said more firmly, but the vision did not disappear. Hermione scrambled to think of a way to make the vision funny or bearable, but she could not. Finally she walked up to Severus and gently pushed his bicep so that he would step away. He did, looking rather shocked at his own inability to counteract the boggart. Hermione just nodded at him and looked back to where the vision of her corpse had been.

There was nothing there. It was as if the boggart had vanished into thin air. Hermione felt her heart pounding as she tried to figure out what it meant. Finally something clicked in her mind. There was nothing before her because that was what she feared. She feared the unknown, the great emptiness that she thought might come after death. She feared accomplishing nothing, or failing, or living a meaningless life. She feared _Nothing_ , with a capital 'N.' The absence of substance was Hermione's greatest fear. She felt her mouth fall open, and she raised her wand to the empty space before her.

" _Riddikulus!"_ she cried. Suddenly the air tingled and shimmered, and there appeared before her a large velvet chair. In the chair sat a grey-haired man with a sallow, sunken face. It was Severus, old and wizened. On his knee was a small child, and the two of them were paging through what seemed like a photo album. The vision of Severus must have said something funny then, for the little child giggled and 'old Severus' quirked up half his mouth. The child turned over his shoulder and murmured something indecipherable, and the elderly man - Severus - nodded firmly.

Hermione wanted to stand and watch them forever. She was mesmerized. She felt her mouth curl into a happy smile at the sight of Severus, old and happy with a grandchild on his lap. She swiped away the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes, and she pointed her wand at the vision. She did not want to Banish it, but she forced herself to say, " _Depulso._ "

The old man and the child and the chair were sucked into the wooden box, disappearing at once. Hermione gently shut the lid of the wooden box and touched the tip of her wand to it. " _Colloportus,_ " she whispered. She turned to Severus, leaning backward on his desk in the stillness of the room.

"You're afraid of what you can not predict," Severus nodded. "Of dying young and taking me with you a few years later, or of having not done anything substantial with your brief time on Earth. You're afraid of the ever-lurking dangers that can not be identified because you do not yet know what they are. You're afraid… of Nothing."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I think that's right."

Severus took a few steps toward her and slipped his fingers up into her hair. "And the cure for that fear was to see me, old and happy. Is that it?"

Hermione nodded again. "It's all I want for you," she whispered, and Severus lowered his face to hers. He touched his mouth against Hermione's, brushing his thumbs along her cheekbones.

"Now I shall know how to subdue my own boggart vision if I should encounter it again," Severus nodded. "I just need to imagine you as an old woman, standing on a beach somewhere tossing stones into the sea. And then I shall be very happy indeed."

He kissed her then, for so long that Hermione forgot what it was like to have her lips apart from him. And she was happy, too.

* * *

Severus strode into the Headmaster's office on the eighteenth of December, sighing with fatigue and feeling rather glad that the students would be off on the Hogwarts Express in a matter of hours. He was long overdue for a break from them all. It was not entirely unpleasant to be teaching Potions again, but Severus had to admit that juggling his responsibilities as Headmaster with his duties as Potions master was tiring. He slid into the chair that had once belonged to Albus Dumbledore and began to sort through the morning's mail. There had been a total of six owls that had come to the Headmaster's Office that morning, and Severus figured it would be best to look over them before sending the students off on holidays.

The first envelope was sealed with blue wax and gold ribbon, and Severus frowned as he cracked it open. He recoiled backward in alarm when a rather obnoxious Singing Christmas Card erupted forth from the envelope. The cards were in the same vein as a Howler, though far less malicious. They had become more popular than ever this year, because the Weasley twins sold them at their shop in Diagon Alley. A disembodied chorus of voices began to chime forth from the card, which glimmered with sparkles and pearlescent light.

 _Ding-Dong! Ding-Dong! Christmastime is nearly here. Ding-Dong! Ding-Dong! Fill your shut-up hearts with cheer! The merriest of Christmases, Headmaster Snape, and a HAPPY NEW YEAR!_

Then there was the clear, magically-recorded voice of a middle-aged women, which said, "Merry Christmas, Headmaster! I do hope that our Delia and Bruce have been pleasant for you this term. With great admiration from the MacLachlans."

Severus curled his lip up with distaste and snatched the Singing Christmas Card out of thin air, plopping it down onto his desk and placing the envelope firmly on top. He had to endure another of the damned things before reading a (mercifully silent) Christmas card that had come from the Ministry in London.

 _Professor Snape,_

 _Despite our past differences, I should think that the Christmas season is a time when it would be in poor taste not to wish you well. A very Merry Christmas to you. I've sent Hermione her own card._

 _Harry Potter_

Severus nearly chuckled at the snide tone of Potter's Christmas card, and he set it aside to show to Hermione later. Finally, he turned to a rather large and heavy envelope, also sealed with the stamp of the Ministry. Severus frowned with curiosity as he opened the envelope, and his frown deepened when he pulled out the letter inside. At once, he recognized the messy signature at the bottom - _E. Doge._

Severus knew that Elphias Doge was the former best friend of Albus Dumbledore. He had only met the old man on a few occasions, none of them terribly pleasant. As Severus began to read the letter, he felt the knot in his abdomen tighten unpleasantly.

 _Dear Headmaster Snape,_

 _Let me begin by once again thanking you on behalf of the entire wizarding community for your incredible services to our people. The downfall of Lord Voldemort is something for which we shall all be ever grateful to you._

 _However, as I'm certain you're aware, over the past few months there has been a great deal of chatter about another death. It has been discerned by the Ministry of Magic that you were the wizard who killed Albus Dumbledore. Many have stated their opinion that this was a 'mercy killing' in light of complicated circumstances. Nevertheless, I'm sure you can understand why the Ministry needs to examine the details and specifics of Albus Dumbledore's death. Justice is potentially at stake._

 _At this time, there are no formal charges against you, nor any indication of malicious wrongdoing. This letter is merely a summons to a hearing which will obtain as much information as possible and determine whether or not any further action is necessary._

 _Please report to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at eight o'clock in the morning on the 23rd of December. We look forward to speaking with you then and learning all that we can about these unfortunate happenings. Please do not hesitate to contact me if you have any questions or concerns._

 _Yours,_

 _Elphias Doge, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot_

Severus crinkled the letter in his hand and felt his mood plummet. As though he hadn't been through enough for all these people, he thought, they were now trying to decide whether he ought to be called a criminal. Severus Vanished the letter from Elphias Doge, feeling sour and cross. He pointed his wand at the two Singing Christmas Cards, too, for their bright cheer was entirely too much today.

* * *

Hermione glanced about the corridors around her, noting that a great many students had failed to find efficient manners of transporting their luggage home. All they had to do was get their trunks and suitcases to the lower level of the castle, and the baggage would meet them all on the Hogwarts Express. But, apparently, such a task was monumental for most students. Most of the students hauled and lugged their baggage without any Magical assistance. Many of them, of course, were too young to use Magic in the corridors. Hermione remembered those days. But she could not help wondering why students hadn't thought to have their trunks enchanted by older students in the dormitories, or to seek other means of transporting their goods.

As for Hermione, she held her purple Extended bag in her fist and shook her head. She had brought two pairs of denims, two nice dresses, and a few skirt-and-blouse outfits home with her. She also had several pairs of pyjamas, basic cosmetics and toiletries, and, of course, a great many books. Her bag was lightweight and compact despite the enormous load it bore. She made her way up several flights of stairs and began to walk toward Severus' office in the Headmaster's Tower. He had given a very brief send-off to the students during lunch, and afterward everyone had scrambled to prepare for the journey back to London.

Now Hermione meant to tell him goodbye, for she would be spending the Christmas holidays with her parents. It was an odd thing, she thought, to be away from Severus for a few weeks. Once upon a time, she would not have been able to fathom spending any time at all _with_ Severus. Now the thought of weeks away from him put a pit in her belly. Her consolation was that her time would be spent with her parents - people who loved her dearly and had hardly seen her over the last several years. Hermione was to meet her parents outside of King's Cross, and the holidays would be spent baking and watching Muggle Christmas films and opening gifts. It would all be very merry, Hermione knew.

She padded past the doorway that led up a winding flight of stairs to Ravenclaw Tower. The bounce in her step could not be swayed, and she began to quietly hum an out-of-tune rendition of "Joy to the World." Her voice quieted when she heard the far-off but familiar drone of Severus' voice.

Hermione rounded the corner of the stone wall where she stood, and down the next corridor, she could see a second-year Ravenclaw girl kneeling on the ground. Severus loomed above her, his arms crossed over his chest. It appeared as though the girl's trunk had spilled its contents all over the floor. Hermione watched in horror as the girl scrambled to stuff training bras and jumpers and her pet frog back into her trunk. She took a few steps toward them down the corridor, but Severus did not seem to notice.

"Wipe your nose, Miss Crampton." Severus whipped a clean handkerchief from his pocket and held it out unceremoniously to Annabelle Crampton. The second-year Ravenclaw mumbled a quiet, ' _Thank you, Headmaster,_ ' and she wiped her nose and eyes with the cloth.

Hermione held back, not wanting to interfere with Severus' work. He raised his eyes and noticed her down the corridor for the first time, and she watched his lips pinch tightly. But then he flicked back his long robe and glared down at Annabelle Crampton again. The girl had finished stuffing her belongings back into her trunk, and she was yanking the lid shut.

"Just how _did_ you intend on getting this down to the Entrance Hall, Miss Crampton?" Severus demanded, cocking an eyebrow at the girl. Annabelle Crampton shrugged and sniffled, her back shuddering.

"I - I tried to Levitate it, sir. But I stumbled on the uneven steps and broke the connection between my wand and the trunk. I shall be more careful -"

"You attempted a Levitation Charm in the corridors?" Severus said in an icy tone. Annabelle Crampton nodded fervently and stammered.

"I know it - it isn't exactly _allowed_ , Headmaster, but I -"

"No, it is not allowed, Miss Crampton." Severus' voice was like stone. "Twenty points from Ravenclaw for improper use of Magic in the corridors."

Annabelle sobbed for a moment, and she said, "But I simply _couldn't_ move it, sir! What was I meant to do?"

"There are

Hermione scowled where she stood, unable to watch Severus abuse the poor girl any longer. She strode quickly forward, deciding that as a school Prefect, she had every right to assist a younger student.

"Hello, there, Annabelle," Hermione said in a cordial tone, though she had never spoken individually with the girl. Annabelle turned over her shoulder and staggered to her feet, wiping her face more roughly than ever as she flashed a sad smile at Hermione.

"Hullo, Madam Granger," she mumbled.

"Oh, please. It's 'Hermione,'" insisted the Headmaster's wife with a wave of her hand. Then she pulled out her wand and smiled warmly at Annabelle. "Do you mind if I cast a few quick spells upon your trunk? It will make it _much_ easier to tow down to the Entrance Hall."

"Yes. Please do," said Annabelle, gesturing at her trunk and taking a large step backward. Hermione spared one glance up to Severus and saw his black eyes flash. She felt anger rippling through their bond, but she ignored it as she swirled her wand toward Annabelle's trunk.

" _Perfusorius,_ " she said firmly. " _Parvarotae._ "

The trunk sprouted small wheels at once, and Hermione made a small sound of satisfaction. She seized the handle of the trunk and glided it across the stone floor to Annabelle.

"There you are," she said proudly. "It's 'light as a feather,' and it's got wheels. You should have no problem whatsoever getting it downstairs now."

Annabelle beamed, her grin betraying her puffy red eyes. "Brilliant! Thanks, Hermione!" she exclaimed. Beside them, Severus cleared his throat delicately.

"Downstairs, Miss Crampton. _Now_."

Annabelle Crampton nodded, looking terrified. She began to scutter off, pulling her lightened trunk behind her. "Happy Christmas, Hermione!" she called over her shoulder.

Hermione watched the girl go, and when she turned back to Severus she felt a bubbling anger in her chest. She wasn't sure whether the anger was hers or Severus' - probably, it was an amplification of the irritation they both felt.

"You nearly ruined that poor girl's Christmas holidays, Severus," Hermione spat quietly, and she yelped when she felt her arm compress under the tight clamp of Severus' hand. He yanked her sideways into a broom closet and illuminated his wand. She felt a buzzing around her as Severus cast a nonverbal _Muffliato._ Then he glared at her, his black eyes shimmering.

"What the devil do you think you're doing, interfering in a disciplinary matter that like that?" he demanded roughly. "Annabelle Clampton broke the rule against student use of Magic in the corridors, and your solution was… what, exactly? To break the very same rule and minimize my authority as Headmaster? It's unacceptable, Hermione. I ought to take dozens of points from Gryffindor…"

"Don't." Hermione shook her head firmly. "Don't do that a half hour before I leave for Christmas."

Severus laughed in a derisive tone and narrowed his gleaming dark eyes. "What exactly am I meant to do? Until next summer, you are still a student here. You're not allowed to use magic in the corridors, either, _Madam Granger._ In fact, yes. Thirty points from Gryffindor."

Hermione felt her mouth fall open, and her hand flew up to slap Severus' cheek. She didn't have time to stop herself, and neither did he. Her palm collided with his cheek, and a sharp _crack!_ ricocheted around the little broom closet. Hermione nearly gasped at having hit him, but he grabbed her wrist and lowered it slowly.

"Make that _fifty_ points," he sneered, his voice and face ugly, "for assaulting the Headmaster. And we shall discuss this further after you've come back from your little trip to your parents' house. Enjoy your bloody Christmas, Hermione. Go."

Hermione felt her eyes burn, but she staved off the tears and shook her head. "How _dare_ you speak to me like that?" she whispered. "I may be a student at this school, Severus, but first and foremost, I am your wife. Before anything else, I am your wife. You and I are bound through an inseparable link that knits our very souls together. You may say all you like that I'm 'just another student' until the summertime, but at the very least you must acknowledge me as your wife. And husbands are not meant to speak to their wives the way you're doing."

"Wives are not meant to slap their husbands," Severus informed her, squeezing her wrist harder than ever. "Nor to make their work much more difficult with childish misbehavior."

"What's happened?" Hermione said at last, for the face she saw before her was not the loving man she knew so well. He was cold and distant, sharp and hateful. She felt her stomach clench hard at the sight of him. He cleared his throat and stood up straighter, releasing Hermione's wrist. She rubbed at the skin where he'd held her too hard. She knew his cheek was burning where she'd slapped him, for she felt echoes of the pain through their bond.

"I have been summoned to the Wizengamot," he said at last, and Hermione felt her eyebrows fly up in alarm. Severus continued, "I've not had a word of contact from Kingsley Shacklebolt in months. Nothing at all since that forsaken _Daily Prophet_ article. Then, this morning, I received an owl from senile old Elphias Doge. I am summoned before the Wizengamot for a hearing to determine just what happened in Dumbledore's death, how responsible I am, and whether nor not any other action is required of the Ministry on the matter."

Hermione's chest tightened, and she could not find her breath for a moment. The broom closet seemed to spin, and she felt her lips go cold.

"They wouldn't throw you in Azkaban," she reasoned. "You're a hero. They crowned you their savior. They had no choice; you killed -"

"Voldemort," Severus finished with a nod. "And Remus Lupin. And Bellatrix Lestrange, and other Death Eaters. And Albus Dumbledore. Don't think for a moment that the Ministry won't find out about all of those. And once they do, I think you'll find that even the wizard who slew the greatest Dark threat in history is a villain."

"No." Hermione felt cold and dizzy, and she struggled to steady herself on her feet. She stared at Severus in the cold white light from the tip of his wand. "When is the hearing?"

Severus hesitated. "You're not to come," he said finally, a warning in his voice. Hermione scoffed and crinkled her brows.

"Whatever do you mean?" she demanded. "I'm your _wife_ , Severus! Today you seem to have entirely forgotten that. If you're going to be questioned before the Wizengamot, of course I will be there. Beside my marriage to you is the matter that I possess a great deal of knowledge which can -"

"Either hurt or help me, depending on which questions are asked," Severus interjected. "The very last thing we need is for you to crack open your valuable testimony willingly, Hermione. I've no idea what this hearing will entail, nor to what degree I will be examined. The letter insisted that no charges are being pressed. Just now, I think it best that you be at your parents' house for the Christmas holidays."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest in disbelief. "If you think I mean to wait until January to know what's become of you, you have another thing coming, Severus. I will be at that hearing, whether you like it or not. I'll find out from you, or I'll contact Kingsley myself to find out. Tell me when it is."

Severus licked his bottom lip and sighed. "Eight o'clock on the twenty-third."

The twenty-third of December was two days before Christmas, of course. Hermione could not help thinking with a twinge of anxiety that, no matter what, this episode was going to ruin Christmas. But she swallowed the bile in her throat and nodded crisply.

"Very well," she said. "I shall be there."

Suddenly Professor McGonagall's voice came booming through the corridors, magically amplified, and leaked through the closet door.

"All students are to report within the next ten minutes to Hogsmeade Station. Prefects, please ensure that younger students find their way to the station. The Hogwarts Express will begin boarding in ten minutes' time. Thank you and a Happy Christmas to all!"

Hermione shifted on her feet and shrugged. "I suppose that includes me," she said with a hint of bitterness. "She did say _all students_ , after all."

Severus chewed his bottom lip for a moment and then nodded. "You have my gift for your parents?" he asked, and Hermione patted her Expanded bag. Several days earlier, Severus had given Hermione a slate cheese board and an elaborate knife set. He'd created the objects himself, he had said, and they were a Christmas gift for Hermione's parents. She'd wrapped the gift in paper and had put it in her bag.

Now as she stood in the little broom closet with Severus, both of them still seething with tension, she felt odd. She wasn't sure whether to storm out of the closet or to cry in frustration, so she just sniffed quietly and said,

"I'll be there on the twenty-third."

"I wish you would not come," Severus said again, but Hermione glared at him and whispered,

"I have to go. Are you going to kiss me goodbye or not?"

Severus pulled gently on Hermione's chin and tipped it upward. She expected him to kiss her mouth, but instead he touched his lips to her forehead. Ordinarily, such a kiss felt intimate and caring to Hermione. Today, it felt very much as though Severus were restraining himself from intimacy as much as possible. Feeling more angry than ever, Hermione scoffed at him and flung the door of the broom closet open. She tried to keep her motions smooth and controlled as she fled down the corridor away from him; she tried very hard not to stomp like a child. But by the time she reached Hogsmeade Station, she felt queasy with confused anger.

As the Hogwarts Express departed for London, she stared out of the window of her compartment - which was mercifully devoid of anyone else - and watched the castle grow small in the distance. She felt a sharp ache in her chest, a physical manifestation of emotional pain, and she knew it belonged to Severus.

With a bit of a huff, Hermione rifled about in her bag and pulled out her copy of _Guarding The Steeds: The Elusive Porlock and His Relationship With Wizardkind,_ and her reading occupied her all the way to King's Cross.

* * *

"Hermione! We're here, darling!"

Hermione caught her mother's eye and waved, dashing out toward Pancras Street. She noticed that her father was clutching an enormous bouquet of white roses. Hermione felt her lips quirk up at the sight of her overjoyed parents. She had missed them, perhaps, more than she had realized over the last several years. She had forced herself to pretend that their absence from her life hadn't mattered, or that she had been too busy to notice, but that had not been true. She had genuinely missed her mother's stern-but-loving countenance, and her father's goofball nature.

"Where's your luggage, kiddo?" asked Hermione's father, after handing her the white roses. Hermione grinned and pointed to her Expanded purple bag.

"Magic," she said in a sly voice, raising her eyebrows. Her mother laughed and shook her head.

"Well, all right, then," she said. "In the car with you."

Hermione piled into the back seat of her parents' Jaguar saloon. Her mother sat in the back with her and patted her hand as her father pulled away from the train station. Hermione felt a bit ill almost at once, for she had so rarely ridden in Muggle vehicles over the past few years. She put her hand to her own abdomen and shut her eyes. She summoned her magic to her throat, and she whispered softly, " _Netoshnota._ "

The queasy car sickness disappeared at once. Hermione looked up with a small smile to her mother, who asked pleasantly,

"And how is Severus? He's staying at school for the holidays, is he? You know he was more than welcome to come and visit."

Hermione felt a strange pull in her chest then. She was grateful, she supposed, that her parents had so fully accepted Severus. After all, it must have been terribly awkward for them to come to grips with the notion that their daughter had married a man twice her age - a man who had been her teacher, to boot. Hermione suspected that such a concept had presented an enormous hurdle, and that only unconditional parental love could triumph over it. Furthermore, it had been Severus who had erased her parents' memories and had sent them to Australia. It had also been Severus who had gone to fetch them from Australia, and Severus who had slowly restored their memories and their lives. Hermione knew that her parents' relationship with Severus was odd and complicated.

Then there was the matter of how she had left Severus. They had argued terribly before she'd left Hogwarts. She could scarcely remember the specifics now. The exact Ravenclaw girl involved didn't matter; the point was that Severus had so fiercely scolded Hermione for 'interfering in his authority.' She had slapped him; he had been too cruel with his words. He had announced that there would be a Ministry inquisition into his role in Dumbledore's death, and that he didn't want Hermione present for it. It had been an awful way, Hermione thought, to part for the holidays. She tried to smile and her mother and hoped it did not look like a grimace.

"Severus is… well, he's awfully busy. Yes, he's staying at school for the holidays," Hermione nodded. Her mother saw straight through her, and her face crumpled at once as her hand tightened on Hermione's.

"Trouble in paradise, dear?" she asked, her voice concerned. Hermione felt her mouth fall open, felt her mouth go dry, and she shook her head fiercely.

"N-no, of course not," she insisted. "It's just been stressful, is all, with…" She trailed off.

How could she possibly explain to her parents that it had been Severus who had killed her old headmaster, but that he'd done so because of complicated magical bargains struck between Dark witches and wizards? How could she explain to her Muggle parents that her husband had killed Lord Voldemort, thus saving wizardkind? How could she explain that Severus would face the Wizengamot, or even what the Wizengamot was? How could she begin to explain the implications of a potential sentence in Azkaban? She couldn't. Her parents existed so far outside the realm of her real life now, and Hermione sighed as she realized how surface-level her relationship with them was doomed to be. She licked her bottom lip and tried to speak again, but her father moved the rear-view mirror and eyed her suspiciously.

"He treats you well, doesn't he?" he demanded with intense paternal concern, and Hermione chuckled. She nodded, though of course Severus had _not_ treated her well in the broom closet before she'd left Hogwarts. She remembered what it had felt like when he'd gripped her wrist painfully - though, to be fair, she'd just finished slapping him. Hermione felt her chest clench with regret. She wished she had left him on different terms, and she was anxious about his Ministry hearing, too.

"Yes, Dad," Hermione said firmly, staring out the window. "He's a good husband."

"I only wish we knew him better," Hermione's mother sighed. "I'm sure he makes you happy, dear. And you're free to do whatever you please, of course. You're your own woman. But… we've had so little time to get to know him. Do you think he might be able to slip away and come to the house just for Christmas Day or something? Can't you call up to… oh, no. I suppose… well, can't you send him an owl or something?"

Her mother pronounced the words awkwardly, and Hermione sighed. She pinched her lips tightly and looked back at her mother, trying to stay pleasant.

"He'll be in London on the twenty-third for business," she said. "I'm actually going to the Ministry for a few hours in the morning that day to see him, so I'll ask him if he might come on Christmas."

"Oh. Splendid," Hermione's mother smiled. Hermione stared out the window again, watching the soupy brown water of the Thames go by beneath them.

* * *

Hermione picked up the black telephone receiver and used the rotary dial to spell the word _Magic._ 6-2-4-4-2. She'd learned about the Ministry of Magic visitors' entrance years earlier from Harry, who had come for his own hearing with Arthur Weasley. Hermione could only hope that the entrance still functioned as it had in previous years. As soon as the rotary dial stopped whirring, an overly cheery woman's voice filled the telephone box.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic! Please state your name and business."

Hermione sighed and said in a clear voice, "Hermione Granger. My husband, Severus Snape, has an exploratory hearing with the Wizengamot today. I'm here for testimony and support."

There was a pause that went on for far too long, and Hermione wondered if she ought to step out of the telephone box and go back to Muswell Hill. Her mother was making stewed beef for dinner tonight, she knew. She should just go home and help with that. She hung up the telephone receiver, and at last the voice came through the box again.

"Very well. Visitor, please take your badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

There was a clicking and a rattling, and Hermione saw a badge appear in the slot of the payphone where coins were returned. It read, _Hermione Granger, Wife of Severus Snape, Visitor to Wizengamot._ She pulled on the heavy black velvet robe she'd brought to cover her Muggle-style clothing, and she pinned the badge on.

"Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium." The woman's voice didn't sound quite as pleasant then as it had when Hermione had first come into the telephone box. Suddenly the floor began to quiver and tremble, and Hermione felt like she was in a Muggle lift as she descended into the ground. The light from overhead disappeared as she went underground, and everything went black. She gripped her wand tightly in her hand, feeling her heart thudding in her chest. At last there was a sliver of light around the floor as she descended into the Atrium of the Ministry.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," said the narrating woman, and the telephone box door opened automatically. Hermione stepped out and glanced around, seeing that the Atrium was still mostly empty. It was only half past seven in the morning, so she knew that most Ministry employees were not yet at work. But she had wanted to ensure she was on time for Severus' hearing.

The past few days with her parents had been quiet and mostly pleasant. They had watched Muggle Christmas films, baked sweets and wrapped gifts for old family friends. But this morning, Hermione had awakened with a pit of dread in her belly. She had dressed and told her parents she would be back as soon as possible, though of course she had no idea how long Severus' hearing would last or what the outcome would be. She'd made her way to the Ministry, a wizarding robe slung over her arm. Now she glanced around the Atrium and made her way to the security desk.

The plump witch at the security desk was wearing obnoxious purple robes and was fingering through a copy of _Witch Weekly._ She took a bite of pastry and licked her fingers, and Hermione cleared her throat to get the woman's attention. The witch seemed to recognize Hermione, and her eyebrows flew up as she gulped down her pastry. Hermione shifted awkwardly on her feet as the witch slugged down some tea and said roughly,

"Wand, please."

Hermione handed over her wand to the witch, who placed it on a scale-like device that trembled and spat out a bit of parchment.

"10 ¾ inches, vine wood, dragon heartstring core, in use for about seven years?" the witch confirmed, and Hermione nodded. The plump woman stuck the parchment onto a brass spike beside her handed Hermione's wand back over to her. The security witch asked, "Do you know where you're headed today?"

"Erm… a Wizengamot hearing," Hermione said carefully, and the witch nodded, her expression looking as though she wanted to care but was too tired.

"The lift just that way… take it to level two, to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Hermione nodded, giving a shaking sigh. "Thank you."

She rode the lift to level two along with a gaggle of Ministry employees that shot her curious expressions all the while. Hermione stared straight ahead at the lift doors until the opened and the overhead voice chimed,

" _Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services."_

* * *

"I hardly think the chains are necessary, Minister." Severus blinked up through the dim torchlight at Kingsley Shacklebolt, who inclined his dark head gracefully and pointed his wand at the chair in the center of the room.

"Of course, Headmaster. Forgive us; the room is arranged in a standard manner for postwar interrogations." He Vanished the chains from the chair and gestured to it, and Severus slid into the seat. Up in the overhead chamber, there was a meek clearing of a throat, and a woman's voice said,

"Headmaster Snape, my name is -"

"Primrose Jorkins. Yes, I remember." Severus nodded. Primrose Jorkins had been a Hufflepuff student during his first years teaching. She was much older now, of course, and a mother of several children. He had not known that she was a member of the Wizengamot. But, then, the chamber had lost several important members during the war. Primrose Jorkins' cheeks darkened with apparent embarrassment as she said,

"This hearing is to determine what exactly happened in the events just before, during, and after the death of Albus Dumbledore and to decide whether or not any further action is required of the Wizengamot. You are not, at this time, charged with any crimes whatsoever, nor are you accused of any criminal wrongdoing. However, you are under legal obligation to tell the full extent of the truth to the best of your ability. Is that well understood?"

Severus cocked up an eyebrow, feeling rather amused by all this. "Yes, Madam Jorkins," he said, trying not to sound disrespectful. "Of course."

There was a loud click and a creaking then, and Severus turned his head to see a door opening and closing in the chamber. He felt his heart racing when he realized it was Hermione who had come into the chamber. He frowned, wishing very hard that she had not decided to come. He sighed and turned back to the panel at the front of the room.

"Have I the pleasure of meeting your good wife, Headmaster?" asked the ancient Elphias Doge, and Severus cleared his throat.

"Yes, sir," he said. "This is my wife, Hermione Granger. I'm sure you'll recall that she has the Order of Merlin, First Class for her own actions destroying horcruxes during the war."

"It's an honor, Master Doge," came Hermione's clear voice as she walked around the outside of the upper chamber. She took a seat in the back row of chairs, and Severus tried not to stare at her. She had her hair pulled into a tight braid and she wore a solemn black cloak. She looked terribly grown-up, and Severus felt his chest pull unpleasantly at the sight of her.

"Let's get to it, then," said Kingsley Shacklebolt in a tight voice, and Severus met his eyes. "As I'm sure you know, this hearing has been called because of information that came to light during other investigations."

"Interrogations," Severus corrected smoothly. Several members of the Wizengamot shifted uncomfortably, but Severus shrugged. "Let us be clear with our language."

"Very well," said a middle-aged witch halfway up the gallery. "In any case, Lucius Malfoy and many others insist that you were the one to kill Albus Dumbledore. Let us begin with establishing the truth of that matter. Is that the case or not?"

"It is," Severus nodded. "It is a very complicated matter; I did not kill Albus Dumbledore with malicious intent."

"Why did you do it, then?" asked Alcides Minchum, the younger brother of the former Minister. Severus sighed and considered his answer. He glanced up at Hermione for a brief moment and saw her twisting her fingers together in her lap. He felt her anxiety flush from her body into his. Finally, Severus spoke.

"As I'm sure you're aware at this point, I spent years prior to Voldemort's downfall working as a double agent. The Dark Lord wanted to test the loyalty and competence of the Malfoy family, so he demanded that young Draco be the one to kill his longtime adversary, Albus Dumbledore. This task, of course, alarmed Draco's mother, Narcissa. She approached me and requested that I carry out the murder in Draco's stead. She feared - rightfully - for her son's safety and the wrath of the Dark Lord. So I agreed, in part to preserve my image as a Death Eater."

"In part?" asked Alcides Minchum. He shrugged and raised his grey eyebrows. "What was the motivation for agreeing?"

Severus put his lips in a line. "The other reason for agreeing was that there is no seventeen-year-old boy on the planet who ought to commit the sort of deed Draco Malfoy was asked to carry out. I was just as worried for Draco as his mother was. I entered into an Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa that I would protect her son and kill Dumbledore if Draco was unable to do so."

"Who served as witness to this Vow?" asked an ancient witch in the front row.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," nodded Severus tightly. "Narcissa's sister. The Unbreakable Vow was completed in my home in Cokeworth in the summer of 1996."

"But Albus Dumbledore did not die until the summer of 1997," noted Elphias Doge, paging through his notes. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his crooked old nose and asked in a ragged voice, "What took so long?"

It was an odd way to phrase the inquiry, of course, and Severus felt his eyebrows fly up. He hesitated.

"Draco Malfoy attempted a great many means of assassinating Albus Dumbledore," he said. "He even tried a roundabout delivery of a lethal cursed necklace to Dumbledore, which nearly killed a Hogwarts student."

"Would that be…" Doge flipped through a few more pieces of parchment and looked up. "Katie Bell?"

"That's right." Severus nodded firmly. "The girl was hospitalized for months as a result. Ronald Weasley, another student, was also poisoned as a result of a failed assassination attempt."

"Ronald Weasley… he is now deceased?" Alcides Minchum asked delicately, and Severus confirmed,

"He was murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange at Malfoy Manor."

"And _you_ killed Bellatrix Lestrange," Minchum said roughly, but before Severus could interject, Elphias Doge held his hand up.

"We shall get to all that, Mr. Minchum," he said, and Severus suddenly felt queasy. He shifted in his chair and tried to keep his breath steady. He stared at Elphias Doge, who took off his glasses and asked carefully, "How is it that you came to finally kill Albus Dumbledore? Why don't you explain it all, in your words, Headmaster?"

Severus nodded and gulped. "Albus Dumbledore discovered one of the horcruxes - the Gaunt family ring. He was tempted to put it on his hand, and it cursed him. I made for him a potion to keep him alive, but the curse was slowly killing Dumbledore, and he knew it. He also knew that Draco had been ordered to kill him. He commanded me, as his true agent, to do the deed for Draco. Of course, I could not tell Dumbledore - or anyone else - about the Unbreakable Vow I'd taken for Narcissa Malfoy. You see, Albus Dumbledore believed heavily in the concept that murder corrupts the soul absolutely, and he did not wish to see this happen to Draco. On the night that the Death Eaters invaded Hogwarts, I went up to the Astronomy Tower. Harry Potter was there, hiding beneath his father's old Invisibility Cloak. He witnessed what happened; Draco Malfoy was there, of course, but I intervened and threw Dumbledore from the tower."

"You cast the Killing Curse at him?" demanded the elderly witch in the front row. Severus swallowed heavily, trying to figure out how best to answer that question.

"No, he did not," came a voice from the gallery. Severus glared up at Hermione, and every member of the Wizengamot whirled around to face her. Hermione flew to her feet, gathering herself as waves of anxiety flew through their bond of _Magnum Verbum Honoris._ She shot him an apologetic look, and then she turned her eyes to Elphias Doge.

"After the Battle of the Astronomy Tower," she said, "I went to my husband's home in Cokeworth. He told me then exactly what had happened. As he says, he had been unable up to that point to do any more but to warn me that he was going to have to do 'something awful.' The Unbreakable Vow prevented him from giving me details. He told me that I would hate him for what he was going to have to do. After Professor Dumbledore was dead, I thought I understood. That night, Severus told me what had transpired. He did not cast the Killing Curse, not really. He did not possess enough malicious intent toward Albus Dumbledore to do so. Instead, he incanted ' _Avada Kedavra'_ aloud, so that the Death Eaters would _think_ that's what had happened. In reality, he cast a nonverbal _Expelliarmus_ , and Dumbledore - who had no wand at the time - was violently thrown from the Astronomy Tower. Severus was only fulfilling a great and terrible obligation. There was no murder."

There was a heavy silence in the chamber then, and the members of the Wizengamot stared at Hermione for what felt like an eternity. Severus felt an aching need to apologize to Hermione for how he'd treated her before they left Hogwarts. He wanted to kiss her, to tell her that he loved her. He wanted to give her the Christmas gift he'd bought for her, the one he had right now in the pocket of his robes. Instead, he just stared at her like everyone else in the room. Finally, Elphias Doge looked back at Severus and drummed his fingers on his aged wooden desk.

"This is what happened, Headmaster Snape?" he asked, and Severus gave one crisp nod.

"So it is."

Elphias Doge pursed his lips tightly and put his glasses back on. He glanced about at his colleagues, his eyes landing on Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Minister," he said to Kingsley, "I am inclined to declare the deaths of Albus Dumbledore, Bellatrix Lestrange, and the others as unfortunate casualties of a tragic war. I am particularly inclined to give Severus Snape - and his wife - amplified gratitude for their heroic actions during the conflict. It appears as though we were overzealous in treating this hearing as a casual interrogation."

"I believe that's right, Chief Warlock Doge," said Kingsley. He gave a weighty sigh and cast his eyes from Hermione down to Severus. "This hearing is dismissed. No further actions whatsoever are needed. You are both commended once more for your services to wizardkind. Madam Granger, I do hope you will consider a career at the Ministry once you've finished up your NEWTs. Have a happy Christmas and a good New Year, the both of you."

* * *

 _~*~ Fin ~*~_

* * *

 _Author's Note: Well, folks, that's the end of Knit Me Together! I hope to begin work shortly on the final installment of the Psalmody series, which will be entitled And Slew Mighty Kings. Please keep an eye open for that or subscribe to me as an author so you'll get an alert when that starts. I would absolutely love to know what you've thought of the series up to this point. Thank you SO MUCH to those who have made it through the slog thus far! I'm so grateful to each and every one of you. I've got some craaaaaaazy plans for And Slew Mighty Kings… ONWARD!_


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